


Labyrinth: Mass Effect 2

by KDlala



Series: Mass Effect [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance, Science Fiction, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 97,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDlala/pseuds/KDlala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nothing straight about the path she has to take.  It's one long, endlessly twisting road to the center of the dark...and back again.  Rated M for language, violence, and adult content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The world and its characters (except for mine) belong to Bioware.

**2183 CE**

Shepard, in Liara T'Soni's opinion, would have been bored to tears at her own memorial.

It didn't really count as a funeral since there was no body but Udina and other high ranking Alliance members had put together this memorial to give people a sense of closure. Or something like that.

She hoped it was giving some to the humans who had shown up because it wasn't doing anything for her. Wrex's words when she'd asked him if he was coming kept echoing in her mind: _I don't need Udina, of all people, to stand there and tell me what was good about Shepard. I'm not dishonoring her memory by going to something that represents everything she wasn't._

Liara closed her eyes as Councilor Udina spoke solemnly over the small shrine they had set up, speaking of Shepard and how she stood as a symbol for all humanity. She had to give him credit for finding a nice spot on the Presidium for the memorial service and making certain Shepard got proper honors. She would have been more impressed if she honestly believed he was doing it to honor Shepard's memory rather than making himself look good.

Still, for all the people that had showed up simply for the sake of putting on a show, there were more who had shown up to honor the commander. Louis Shepard, her uncle, had shown up, though his face was void of any expression. Neither of her cousins, Raymond and Mischa, were there but that wasn't a surprise. They had both decried Udina as a hypocrite and stated they would honor their cousin in a way she would have wanted. Janine Shepard, their mother, and Louis's first wife, had not said anything publically, but her club had been closed for several days, which was a sign enough of both her and Mischa's grief.

Tali'Zorah wasn't there. Liara had tried to get a message to her in time but they had both known she probably wouldn't make it. She imagined the quarian had her own way of honoring Shepard's memory. But Garrus Vakarian was also conspicuously absent and that _did_ surprise and disappoint Liara. He was back on the Citadel, had gone back to C-sec while his Spectre training was going on, he had no excuse for not being there except he was particularly angry with Udina. He would have been willing to overlook them not making a big public deal about the Reapers, but it was becoming more and more obvious both Alliance and Citadel officials were trying to brush off Shepard's warnings about the rest of Sovereign's brethren and the threat they posed.

Captain...no, he was an Admiral now...Anderson stood off to Udina's side, not looking at the ambassador, his stance straight and proud, his eyes focused straight ahead without seeing anything. Like Wrex, Anderson didn't need Udina to tell him anything about Shepard. The admiral was one of her staunchest allies and a man Shepard had admired and held the utmost respect for. Almost everyone from the Normandy was here as well. Dr. Chakwas and Engineer Adams, and the surviving members of the rest of the crew. Kaidan Alenko was giving Udina the kind of cynical apprisal they were probably all feeling. Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, the Normandy's pilot, was slumped beside him, barely paying Udina any heed, lost in his own thoughts. Liara wished there was something she could do to comfort him, understood perfectly the guilt that ate at him. Shepard had sent her into one of the escape pods before going back to get Joker. She'd barely managed to get him into one of the last escape pods before the blow that had destroyed the Normandy completely had thrown her into space.

A suit malfunction, that's what they said it had to be. The general opinion was she had never had a chance once she'd gotten away from the Normandy. Most likely she was dead and her body destroyed from being pulled into the atmosphere of the planet below.

She had seen the questions in Kaidan's eyes, the same ones that echoed in her own. If one of them had gone back with her to get Joker, would they have been able to help her? It haunted her. Neither one of them had ever disobeyed a direct order from the commander before, but if they had that one time, would it have saved her?

She didn't know. Would never know. All she knew was one of the galaxy's brightest lights had been extinguished and would not be there to fight off the coming darkness. Liara closed her eyes again, her heart clenching painfully in fear and despair.

She'd lost track of whatever it was Udina intoning, his voice fading into little more than a drone in the background of her thoughts. She jolted when that drone was abruptly cut off with the loud smashing of glass as someone threw a bottle at the podium Udina was standing at and a voice snarled, "Bastard!"

Liara turned in her seat and her heart clenched painfully at the sight of Sargent Howard Kell, the Normandy's requisitions officer and one of its engineers, standing in the middle of the walkway leading up to the podium, swaying on his feet. No one had seen him since the escape pods had been rescued. He had just disappeared off the grid.

He looked awful. His shaggy hair was a mess and stubble covered his homely face. He wore one of the colorful shirts he was fond of when he was off duty but it was covered in stains and was open in the front, revealing a dirty white shirt beneath. He glared at the ambassador with bleary eyes, ignoring the guards stepping forward. Admiral Anderson motioned them back and moved down the aisle toward him. "Sargent Kell..."

Liara also rose to her feet as Howard pointed past Anderson to the ambassador. "Bastard. Standin' there like he knew her at all...like he didn' turn on her the second he coulda..."

"Howard, you're drunk..."

"Ya damned right I am." Howard swallowed visibly, his voice wavering. "Him 'n the rest of 'em are all talkin' about what a hero she was then turning around and stabbing her in the back. Were doin' it even before she died."

"Howard."

"An' you _let 'em_ , Anderson! This," he made a flailing gesture all around him, "is a joke."

Liara reached them, then. She placed a hand on Howard's elbow and he swung his head to look at her. He had to stare for a few moments before recognition set in. "Liara...you know what I'm talkin' about."

She didn't see any reason to lie. "Yes."

"You heard 'em. Said she was disturbed...obsessed...that the beacon damaged her brain...paranoid. 'Too much stress from the trauma from Mindoir and Akuze', they said. 'The pressure of all of it was a little much for her', they said."

"Come on, Howard." Liara started to guide him back down the aisle, giving Anderson a nod, who returned to the front, ordering the guards to return to their positions.

Howard resisted at first, but eventually walked unsteadily with her, letting her hold him up. He paused at the entrance to glare back at Udina, eyes that suddenly weren't all that bleary sweeping across the room and the people in it, drawing himself up. "I'll tell you 'bout the real Arian Shepard. She was brilliant and courageous. She was single handedly the most stubborn, exasperating person I've ever met and she was born to raise hell. She was one of the Alliance's most versatile fighters and one of its greatest assets, which drove certain members of it absolutely insane. She could be the most ruthless bitch you ever met and had the most heart I've ever seen in anyone. She was fast and full of grace; she could be shallow and childish and sometimes it seemed like it was only pure bedamned luck that got any of us out alive from the kinds of situations we got dragged into alongside her. All that was her. That was my baby girl. And now she's dead and the universe is a darker place 'cause of it. And it's gonna get darker, no matter what these idiots try to tell you." He turned away, shoulders slumping. "You'll know she was right...that we all were...eventually. 'Course it'll be too late then."

There was no answer. Udina stood at the podium, face stony, and said nothing. Perhaps he knew even then that nothing he'd said that day would be remembered. It was the words of an old drunken engineer that history would remember best.

Howard let out a bitter laugh and stumbled out.

* * *

Very few people knew where Shepard's apartment on the Citadel was. She had made sure of it. It was a tiny, out of the way place on the Wards. Some people might have been surprised that she hadn't tried for a place on the Presidium but Liara, who had known her better than most, couldn't imagine Shepard living comfortably within all that carefully maintained tranquility. This section of the Wards- noisy and filled with cheap bars and tiny cafes with musicians playing on corners, vendors hawking from makeshift stalls, and preachers of every species and philosophy standing in squares and small parks lambasting passerby -suited Shepard much better.

Liara had only been there once or twice but Howard obviously knew his way well. He walked with unsteady determination through the crowds. Liara, worried Udina had sent C-sec or someone after him, followed, her heart aching for him. It was no secret that Howard's feelings for Arian Shepard ran deeper than subordinate to commander or even friendship. He'd been with her since her early days in the Alliance after she'd come out of the academy. She was an N7 marine, graduating from the Alliance's most brutal training program. A program so tough, Liara had learned, that even if a soldier dropped out of it, the mere fact he'd gotten into the program in the first place gave one a certain level of respect. But she was also a woman with a criminal background and a hard past. If she hadn't been a biotic, it was unlikely she would have gotten in at all, much less into the N program. As it was, she'd been shuffled off to the Attican Traverse to help protect colonies and improve relations between them and the Alliance. Howard had already been working the Traverse for years before he took Shepard under his wing, giving her guidance and advice even after she'd surpassed him in rank. They had worked almost non-stop together through those years up until they'd both joined the Normandy. He'd lost his own son during the brutal siege on Torfan and, though he'd never said it out loud until today, it was clear to anyone who spent more than five minutes around the two that Howard loved her like a daughter.

And now he had lost her, just like his first child.

Howard stumbled as he neared Shepard's apartment building and Liara stiffened as a tall figure in C-sec blue caught him by the elbow. Howard growled low in his throat and started to shake it off and paused, peering up. "Oh...Garrus."

Liara relaxed as she recognized the turian. "Garrus. I was afraid someone had sent C-sec after him..."

"They did," Garrus Vakarian said quietly. "Someone remembered seeing Howard on the vids and let me know. I convinced the Executor to let me take care of it." A bitter edge came to his voice. "He's very magnanimous toward Shepard now that she's dead."

Howard seemed to be sobering up a little, not swaying on his feet as much. "Didn't see you at the memorial, Garrus."

The turian met his gaze. "It's a joke."

Howard snorted out a laugh. "Wanna see her apartment. Think her uncle's going to take care of it soon but he said I could go in...just...just to see her one more time."

Neither Garrus or Liara had an answer for that, but they followed him. Liara studied Garrus out of the corner of her eye, trying to pinpoint exactly what was bothering her about him. Garrus was never easy to read and he was generally calm and composed, but there was something especially closed and guarded about his expression. However Shepard's death had affected him...and she refused to believe it had not...he was keeping it private.

Howard made his way down the corridor of the building to the back of the second floor. Mr. Shepard must have indeed made some arrangement for Howard because the voice recognition system on the door let him in.

It was tiny, a single room with a kitchen and bathroom, a screen on the wall, a tall locker, a desk and chair, and a bed that folded into a couch at the push of a button. All of it from the pillows to the decorations on the walls to the drapes on the windows were decked out in deep, rich colors. Sapphire blues and ruby reds, emerald greens and dull golds. On the Normandy, Shepard had worn clothing that echoed the Alliance's uniforms, blues and browns and grays, but off duty she had loved color.

The bed was folded up and it and the desk were piled up with datapads, sketchpads, and various drawing and writing tools. Howard wandered to the desk, letting his fingers run over the small collection of paper books that had been one of the only real indulgences Shepard had. They were books of poetry, mostly, with a few novels in the mix. Hanging on the wall above the desk was a circle of stone beads with a polished stone crucifix pendant. Rosary beads, Shepard had called them. Seeing it for the first time had surprised Liara, since Shepard wasn't religious, until she had explained the beads had belonged to her grandmother and her uncle had given them to her. They were passed down from mother to daughter and should have gone to her mother, so Louis had kept tradition and insisted she have it. While she didn't follow the religious aspect of the symbol, that didn't mean she couldn't honor her grandmother's memory.

Liara's gaze was drawn from Howard to the wall opposite the desk, a short length of corridor leading to the bathroom. Garrus was standing there, studying the drawings that covered it. There were many more drawings there now than there had been the last time she'd been here and it chilled her, wondering if Shepard's nightmares from the Prothean beacon had started up again. Apparently, they had. The wall was papered with drawings taken straight out of Shepard's visions. Liara, who had seen the vision herself, had a hard time looking at them for more than a few minutes. She could only guess what Garrus was thinking as he looked at them. She'd spotted a bottle of turian brandy on the counter of the kitchen amongst the other liquor bottles and wondered how many times Garrus had seen the drawings. There was no getting used to it: every single one was a carefully rendered scene of slaughter. Dim figures died, reaching out pleading hands toward an enemy that had no mercy, cities burned in stark black and white, and figures that reminded her eerily of the husk creatures they had battled capered amongst the dying. The only drawing that wasn't a scene of death from the Protheans' desperate attempt at warning their surviving people about the Reapers was the most simple of the lot. Shepard had drawn it over and over and over with an obsessiveness that frightened Liara. It was a black figure silhouetted against a white circle, a simplified but somehow equally chilling version of one of the most clear images in the vision. A Reaper rising above a burning planet.

"She lived with these images in her head," Garrus said quietly. "She and Saren both."

Liara nodded.

"What do we do, Liara?" Garrus asked suddenly, turning his head to look at her. "You saw all of this, too. What can we do?" His voice was hoarse and for an instant she saw an echo of grief in his eyes. And knowledge of what was coming.

She had no answer for him. Intellectually, she knew all that Shepard did about the Reapers and the death they would eventually bring, but she didn't know if she could fight as fiercely as her dear friend would. She would have to try. They couldn't just lay back and let the Reapers take them, even if no one else in the galaxy would admit they existed. "Try to prepare," she said finally. Like they could ever be ready.

Garrus stared at one of the Reaper drawings without replying.

"Better to fight and lose than not fight at all." Howard's tired voice came from behind them, startling Liara. She turned to look at him and he shrugged. "It's what she would've wanted us to do."

They stood in silence for a moment. Liara suddenly found it hard to breathe. She turned and strode out the door, unable to stand that wall of drawings and the space around it anymore. She emerged out onto the street, taking a deep breath as she struggled to calm herself. By the time Garrus and Howard emerged, she nearly had herself back under control. Garrus looked at her in concern and she nodded to assure him she was all right. Howard seemed to have collapsed into himself, his wide, bulky frame seemed smaller. Garrus laid a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Howard, I'll walk you back to your hotel."

"Howard. Garrus." Liara reached out a hand to stall them.

Howard didn't look up but Garrus glanced at her over his shoulder.

She felt she had to say something, anything to lighten the heavy, bleak pall that had suddenly settled over all of them. "We'll find some way to stop them. We will."

Garrus looked away. "Goodbye, Liara."

Something about the way he said it made her wonder if she would ever see him again, and there was a coldness there that, while not directed at her, worried her. She watched them disappear down the street, only stirring when her personal comm beeped, indicating she had a message. She frowned as she looked at it, not recognizing the sender. "Hello?"

"Liara T'Soni?" She didn't recognize the voice either.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"I have some important information for you regarding Commander Shepard."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What kind of information?"

"More specifically, we have some information about the commander's body."


	2. A Spark in the Darkness

Life without meaning

cannot be borne.

We find a mission

to which we're sworn

\- or answer the call

of Death's dark horn.

Without a gleaning

of purpose in life,

we have no vision,

we live in strife,

\- or let blood fall

on a suicide knife.

-Dean Koontz, " _The Book of Counted Sorrows_ "

* * *

**2184 CE**

* * *

_Mirette Shepard would have called it Self. A tiny pinprick of light in the darkness. Held in suspension like a firefly trapped within cupped hands._

* * *

"I'll warn you again that this isn't a pleasant sight. Tissue regeneration is only at about 40% and only a small portion of that is skin." The man who called himself Wilson stood at a blanked out window, turning to study the two people behind him.

"I'm not believing anything until I see her with my own eyes," Karin Chakwas said coolly. "You can throw DNA comparisons and reports at me all day, but I'm not making any promises until I see her and know for sure."

Wilson shrugged and turned back to the window. The Illusive Man _really_ wanted these two brought into the fold now that whatever Miranda was coming up with appeared to be working. There was brain activity. Not much but it was there. He cleared the window so the room beyond came into view. They couldn't go into it, of course. As she was, it would only take a cough at the wrong time to put the fragile shell of a woman within into mortal danger.

Behind him, Jeff Moreau made a gagging sound. Wilson couldn't blame him there. The room beyond was sealed and sterilized around a tube holding Shepard in suspension. Even with all the space and glass between them, the woman was a horrifying sight. Some of her face was visible but for the most part, she was a living, pulsing anatomical figure; all red, bloody flesh and scraps of skin. Some of the charred bone hadn't fully regrown yet either and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chakwas taking all of that in with a shrewd gaze.

" _That's_ Shepard?" Moreau said in a choked voice.

Chakwas turned her head toward Wilson slowly, her expression still suspicious, but there was a glitter in her eyes now.

Wilson pressed the comm button and spoke to one of the white suited figures within. "Will you turn her a bit, please?" He let go of the button and looked back at them. "Like I said, there's only some skin. Most of it on her back where it was protected for some reason." He looked pointedly in the room.

The tech had turned the body slightly so they could look at it from the back. Most of the skin from the shoulders down had survived and he'd taken pains to keep it that way, because it preserved the only one of Shepard's tattoos to fully survive.

Chakwas had seen it before. So had Moreau. A wide circle on her back that held a twisting, complicated pattern of a labyrinth. It was a masterpiece and Wilson admitted that practicality had only played a small part in his determination to preserve it.

Jeff Moreau stared for a long time, then spoke quietly: "I'm in."

Chakwas nodded.

* * *

_Gradually, that pinprick started to grow bigger, no longer suspended between but drawn back slowly, bit by bit._

* * *

Liara T'Soni sat quietly at her desk in her new office on Illium, staring down at the object set in front of her. Her mind kept wandering today, a sense of melancholy pervading her thoughts. She kept thinking of two people out there beyond her reach, both important to her. One captured, one caught between life and death. One giving himself up so she could take the other away.

_Feron..._

She laid her hand on the keyboard of her console, studying that small, precious cache of information she had managed to gather. So pitifully small even for all her searching. Her other hand rested over the deck of ragged cards...tarot cards, they were called...wrapped in a torn silk scarf. A legacy passed on by one brave, troubled woman to her precious daughter. She pulled the card she had deliberately set at the top of the deck out and studied it. The Queen of Cups.

_I'll find you, Feron,_ she thought silently. _And maybe by then, I'll have Shepard back to help me._

* * *

_At some point, awareness came. Not thoughts, exactly, but now the darkness was receding and the spark became a corridor, leading inexorably back...back..._

* * *

James Butler took a final drag from his cigarette and then dropped it to the ground, careful that it landed somewhere dry before grinding it with his boot. Drop so much as a spark into a puddle on Omega and you could end up with a bonfire.

The young man at his feet stirred and Butler nudged him in warning. "Stay down, kid."

The kid glared up at him. "You're stealing my stuff."

"Consider it payment for making sure no one bothers you," Butler said coolly, unmoved by the accusatory note in the kid's tone. He and his gang of buddies had been roaming the neighborhoods and pulling a protection racket, thinking if they kept to the slums they would steer clear of he worst of the big gangs. "Or maybe just payment for not killing you. This here, kid? _This_ is protecting people. And we don't charge anything for it."

The kid shifted and Butler kicked him again, harder this time. "Kept 'em safe, didn't we?" He sounded sulky as he watched Garrus, Sidonis, and Monteague going though the stash of money and stolen valuables the gang had extorted from people. Weaver had grown up in that neighborhood, so he was helping identify things like jewelry and knick knacks and such that were obviously special. They'd return them from the people they had been taken from if they could.

The kid muttered something, but Butler caught a glitter of fear as he looked away. The kid and his friends were outmatched on a serious level and they knew it. They had a chance of walking away from this with a lesson about taking advantage of people if they didn't cause trouble, but one toe out of line and he and his friends were dead. And no one would care.

That was life on Omega.

Butler glanced back over to his own team in time to see Garrus go completely still. He just froze in place, so suddenly Butler looked around to make sure there wasn't some kind of ambush. But no, Garrus wasn't rising to his feet. He was still kneeling beside the pile, holding up some kind of necklace up to the dim light, staring at it.

"Archangel?" Weaver tapped him on the shoulder, looking concerned.

The turian rose without answering, turning to face Butler and the kid, who went still. Butler didn't blame him. Garrus could be scary as hell when he was pissed off, but the look on his face now was something he'd never seen before. He'd learned how to read turians as a matter of necessity and he knew Garrus' moods easily by now. There was anger there, yes, but it was...raw...mixed with something very much like pain. Butler took a step back as Garrus walked up slowly and crouched in front of the kid. He held the necklace out- it was some kind of amulet or something on a thick silver chain, Butler saw now -the chain wrapped around his thumb and main finger. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and measured, but there was a rumble beneath it that had every single one of them on alert. "Where did you get this?"

The kid licked his lips, his wide eyes flickering to the necklace. "I don't know every piece we..."

Garrus moved so fast Butler didn't even see it, his free hand seizing the kid by the hair and yanking his head back viciously. _"Where did you get this?"_

The kid squealed in pain. "I don't know!"

"Archangel, what the hell?" Butler said, worried now. He'd never seen Garrus so angry before.

Garrus held the necklace up and Butler took a close look at it. Not an amulet, a medal, he saw. "St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes," Garrus said in a low voice. He flipped it over so Butler could see an engraving on the other side: _To our wild child._

He was still confused as hell until Garrus said: "This was hers."

Butler stared at him in shock for a moment and the others went still. There was only one 'her' that could get that kind of response out of Garrus. "That was _Shepard's_?"

"Commander Shepard? How in the hell did a little nothing punk like that get a hold of something that belonged to her?" Monteague exclaimed.

"I would very much like to know the answer to that question," Garrus said, his eyes never leaving the kid, who was sheet white by now.

"I didn't really think it was hers, I swear!" He gestured frantically toward the safe where they had gotten it from. "All that stuff we took off this crazy old guy that sometimes paid us to find junk for him. Special junk, like from famous people. His house was filled with it. Scraps of clothing from famous movie stars, guns from famous people, stuff like that. So...so one day he says he wants this deck of cards that belonged to Commander Shepard and we told him that was nuts 'cause no one ever found her body and he started laughing and pulled that necklace out and said he didn't know what happened to the body but there were people auctioning off some of her stuff they found in the wreck of her ship, and this was one of it. We broke in and stole some of the most valuable stuff. I didn't think it _really_ belonged to Shepard! His house was packed with all sorts of stuff and half of it couldn't have really belonged to someone famous. I thought he was faking it!"

Garrus rose to his feet again and backed away, composing himself.

"I think I know who he's talking about. You want to go after him, Archangel?" Weaver asked.

In control once again, Garrus shook his head. "Later, maybe. Let's get this finished up first."

The kid watched him for a moment, uncertain, before slumping down with relief he was still alive.

They got back to work, a bit more subdued than before. None of them missed the fact Garrus had the St. Jude medal wrapped around his hand now and there wasn't a doubt the old man, whoever he was, was never going to get that particular piece back.

* * *

_After awareness came memory, a seething mess of disjointed images, the smell of burning, the ripping sounds of explosions, a monster rising above a burning planet, face after face after face and voice after voice after voice..._

* * *

"There. On the monitor. Something's wrong."

_Light. Sensation._

"She's reacting to outside stimuli. Showing awareness of her surroundings."

_She. She was a she. Her. Female. Human. She could feel her skin now, cold metal against it, the dark retreating. Shapes formed in front...above...her._

"Oh my God, Miranda. She's _waking up_!"

_There was a shape not far from her eyes, held still right in her line of vision. It was a hand._ Her _hand. Even as she thought it, it twitched a bit._

"Damn it, Wilson! She's not ready yet! Give her the sedative!"

_But that couldn't be her hand. Her hand had skin. She could distinctly remember this. Remember looking at her hand and not being able to see the muscles pull on the bones. On the heels of that thought came pain and she gasped. A woman's face appeared in her vision._

"Shepard! Don't move. Just lie still. Try to stay calm."

_As her brain registered the pain from her hand, it started picking up on the pain radiating through the rest of her. Not just an ache, but alarming, terrifying pain. The kind of pain that came from a serious wound. All over her._

"Heart rate is still climbing. Her brain activity is off the charts!"

_She couldn't take her eyes off that horrible, flayed hand. She tried to scream but her voice didn't seem to work._

"Stats pushing into the red zone. It's not working!"

_Everything wavered as shadows washed across her vision, making panic spike through her. She was dying. Had to be. She didn't want to die._

"Another dose, now!"

_Something terrible had happened and if she died, what would happen to...she saw faces but couldn't match names through her struggle to breathe and push the shadows back. It didn't work. The darkness closed in on her, swallowing her, choking her cry of despair._

"Heart rate is dropping. Stats falling into normal range. That was close, we almost lost her."

"I told you the estimates were off. Run the numbers again."

_Awareness faded to nothing more than a spark in the darkness again._


	3. System Shock

**2185 CE**

**Lazarus Research Station**

**Unknown Galaxy**

"Miranda wanted me to run a quick test on the surveill ...what the hell are you doing?" Jacob Taylor stopped the doorway of the main medlab, blinking at Wilson.

It was a valid question. Wilson was standing over the still, unconscious form of Commander Shepard, lying face down on the slab, her back bare to the waist. Wilson, however, didn't look the least bit perturbed by the interruption. "Fixing her tattoo."

Jacob came up to the table, seeing the small machine that had been hidden by Wilson's body. A tube led from it to the instrument in Wilson's hand. Wilson bent back to his task. "I worked my way through med school working at a tattoo parlor. This section of her back was left mostly intact, so enough of the tattoo was left for me to make it whole again. It's really a beauty. I wonder who did it."

Jacob squinted at the elaborate design. "She's got a maze on her back."

"Labyrinth, the design is called," Wilson corrected. "Only one path, see?" He traced his finger above the design, following the path that led to the middle. There was indeed only one, twisting and turning into itself, forming a symmetrical pattern within the circle. Done in stark black lines, the design was simple and elaborate all at once. "I saw a few designs for it when I was working. It's a meditation thing, someone told me. Follow the path to the middle and back again. Now why she has one on her back, I have no idea."

"I never met Shepard, but from I've seen on the vids, she didn't strike me as the meditative type," Jacob agreed, leaning forward a bit to get a closer look at the design in the very center, which Wilson was finishing up. The final opening that led into the center, instead of just ending, had lines drawn from it, twisting around throughout the small center circle and forming a three pointed design made to look like a ribbon folding into itself with an eye design set right in the center. If you traced it, it led right back to the entrance and out into the labyrinth design again. "Pretty cool. Miranda is going to be pissed."

"Probably." Wilson didn't sound terribly concerned, leaning back to study his work and nodding in satisfaction. He turned to shut the machine down and detach the needles. "It won't interfere with anything they're doing to get her muscles working properly again. Her body is working just fine, it's just a matter of seeing if they can get her mind back into shape."

"Miranda thinks she can."

"Yeah." There was an odd, resentful note in Wilson's voice. "I know."

* * *

_One month later_

"We've done everything we can to get the muscles in top shape, but it simply can't compare to her actually working with them. She'll have to exercise regularly in order to regain her strength," Miranda's assistant said.

"If everything goes right, and preliminary tests make me hopeful they are, she should still maintain all her memory and training, so I don't think it will be a problem," Miranda said with a rare half smile, satisfied.

"The next round of tests should..." The assistant trailed off, blinking, as warning klaxons suddenly blared to life, startling everyone.

Annoyed, Miranda went to the small communication center in the corner of the lab. "What the hell..."

"Security is on full alert but there's something strange..." One of the other assistants was cut off as a security mech suddenly bashed in through the door. His voice raised into a scream that was cut off as the mech opened fire. Miranda ducked down behind a table, moving automatically and rolling to a better position. Even as the mech finished off the rest of the assistants, she rose from behind the table, throwing her hand forward in a sharp, vicious gesture. The mech paused, buzzing, as her biotics closed around it, sparks flying as its casing started to crunch. Its head exploded and it slumped to the ground. Miranda took a moment to steady herself, taking stock of the situation. She sealed the door as best she could to buy her some time and did a quick search of the facility. Something...someone...had turned the mechs hostile. Calm blue eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of the mechs hunting people down before she turned her attention to the one person there she needed to make absolute certain didn't die. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the room was still sealed and protected. She hesitated, going over her options. She came to the reluctant conclusion that she had no choice, there was only one option. She brought up a series of commands, powering up the machinery in the room on the screen while she still could. Her finger hovered over the execute button for a single moment before she pushed it.

* * *

Jacob ran headlong through the facility's corridors, trying to drown out the screams of people who had gotten trapped in with the mechs without a way to escape.

The entire facility had gone to hell. Before he'd lost contact with the rest of the security team, they had reported that any attempts to override the system and take the security mechs offline or bring them back under control had been met with utter failure. He gathered that hadn't changed since the mechs were still ripping the facility apart.

He took down a mech blocking the door ahead and dove through onto a bridge connecting one section of the facility to another, sealing the door behind him before attempting to raise Miranda...or anyone really...on his comm. He got nothing but static at first, but he thought he caught a faint voice when he tuned into channels from the immediate vicinity. Before he could try and make it clearer, he heard a door open across the way to another bridge on the other side and cursed as more mechs came in, opening fire on him. He dove for cover, counseling himself for patience since they couldn't get across to him yet, drawing on every ounce of Alliance training he had.

Something hit the door to the bridge he'd just sealed with a heavy thump. He glanced back, judging he had a while before whatever it was managed to break through and forced himself to focus on the mechs still shooting at him. He angled himself so his back wasn't to the door anymore, listening with half an ear as the thumping stopped. He had a moment to hope whatever it was had given up and the door was suddenly blasted open from within. Jacob put his back to the wall, pistol up and pointed as he moved to face the new enemy without exposing himself to the mechs on the other bridge. He sighted down the barrel...and froze.

The figure standing in the doorway wasn't a mech. It was a dead woman.

For a moment, Jacob could only gape. "S-Shepard?" he finally blurted. "What the hell?"

It was her pale hair and those gray eyes of hers that tipped him off. Otherwise he might have shot her on reflex because she looked like something that had just crawled out of a crack straight to hell. Granted, she actually resembled a human being now, but only just barely.

Her eyes flicked from him to the mechs still shooting from the other bridge. She was dressed in light armor and carried a pistol, raising it slowly, her hand trembling, which he supposed was understandable. He stirred, shaking his thoughts off, and turned to join her in picking the mechs off. Her aim was off, he noted with absent professionalism, though it got better the more she shot. When there were only two mechs left, dark energy shimmered around her suddenly and she lashed out with one hand, throwing one of them hard into the other and sending them both crashing into the wall. Jacob shot them as they fell to be sure they stayed down, eying Shepard warily.

He was not reassured by a closer look at her. There was a chilling blankness in her eyes that made him think her brain wasn't quite working and the way she kept looking around and jumping at the slightest sound made him nervous as hell. It reminded him of a wild animal ready to bite anything that moved near it. "What are you doing here?" he asked, keeping his voice calm and measured. "I thought you were still a work in progress."

She looked at him with clear confusion, the first real expression that had crossed her face. "I..what? I just woke up..."

Shit. Obviously Miranda had woken her up early, how the hell was she supposed to know anything? "Right. Sorry about that. I'm Jacob Taylor...I've been stationed here for..."

"Hostiles detected." The voice echoed across the room. Either the mechs had just come in or they had missed it.

"Damn it!" Jacob whirled up and took one of them down. He turned back to Shepard as he dropped back down to a crouch. "Things must be worse than I thought if Miranda's got you running around."

He saw a flicker of expression cross her face at Miranda's name, which gave him some hope. Talking to her seemed to be helping. That blankness was fading from her eyes and he saw a glint of calm focus the soldier in him recognized. He glanced over his shoulder. "I'll fill you in, but we better get you to the shuttle first."

A shot hit the other side of the barrier and her expression shifted into annoyance. She spun, eyes narrowed, and used another biotic attack to take down the other mechs. Since saving bullets seemed a good idea to him, he used his own biotics to help her finish them off. She seemed more steady with biotics than she did with her gun. He wasn't sure if that made him feel any safer. Anyone else, it wouldn't have worried him, but this was Arian Shepard they were talking about. The woman was an N7 marine who had slaughtered things the galaxy had never seen before. He was careful his thoughts didn't show on his face. When she looked at him, he nodded toward the door. "Ready to get the hell off this station?"

She was touching her cheek, her expression confused and troubled. When she turned her head slightly, he could catch the glow of cybernetics through a still healing wound on her cheek. "I was hurt..."

That was such a complete understatement, Jacob couldn't even fathom a reply at first. He finally said, "I'm not a doctor, but you were pretty bad. When I first saw you, you were nothing but meat and tubes. Anywhere else, they would have put you in a coffin. But Project Lazarus was different. Cutting edge technology."

Shepard still wasn't looking at him, but her eyes went wide. "I died."

"Or close to it...that was the project's purpose. To bring you back. Two years, all the top scientists, the best technology money could buy."

"I _died_..."

Jacob actually wished she would sound hysterical, just so he could figure out what the hell she was going to do or what she was feeling. He had no idea how to translate that quiet voice and her face remained strangely blank, like she couldn't remember how to make an expression. Shepard turned away from him for a moment, breathing deeply, clearly trying to calm herself. After a few minutes, she turned back and this time the blankness in her face was deliberate, her expression hard. Whatever she was feeling, she had locked it away for the moment. "What's the quickest way to the shuttles?" Her voice was steady.

He breathed out a silent prayer of thanks. This he could deal with. "Depends on where the mechs are thickest. It's probably best if we-"

" _Check. Check. Anyone on this frequency? Anybody still alive out there? Hello?"_

That was Wilson's voice. Hurriedly, Jacob clicked his comm on. "Wilson? This is Jacob. I'm here with Commander Shepard. Just took out a wave of mechs over in D wing."

" _Shepard's alive?"_ Wilson sounded shocked. _"How in the hell...never mind. You need to get her out of there. Get to the service tunnels and head for the network control room."_

"Roger that, Wilson. Stay on this frequency." Jacob turned back to Shepard and was startled to find her staring at him with narrowed eyes. Before he could ask what was wrong, she said thoughtfully, "He's a scientist."

"He's the medical director. He was one of the ones in charge."

"I heard him. In audio diaries back there." She gestured back. "And I saw him..." The troubled look on her face was back, though she smoothed it out a few moments later. "Service tunnels?"

"We can get there through this door."

He led the way, keeping an eye on her out of the corner of his eye. The service tunnels were crawling with mechs, a fact he reported to a defensive Wilson. He almost regretted that when the came out the other side of the tunnel and Wilson's panicky voice came over the comm, calling for help before a gunshot sounded and he cried out in pain. Jacob charged up the stairs, aiming for Server Room B where Wilson had said he was. There were more mechs waiting for them and bodies scattered across the floor. Jacob let the sight give him something to focus his anger. Shepard seemed more steady now, and her aim much better than it had been.

The last mech in the corridor collapsed in a shower of sparks and Jacob took a moment to catch his breath, trying to raise Wilson on the comm again.

" _Physical reconstruction of the subject is complete."_

He had a moment of utter confusion as he heard Miranda's voice. It wasn't coming from his comm. He realized Shepard had wandered over to a console and Miranda's face and voice were playing on it. _"We still need to evaluate all mental and neurological functions. Our orders were clear: make Commander Shepard who she was before the explosion- the same mind, the same morals, the same personality."_

The poor woman. Jacob wasn't made of stone. He could only imagine what had to be going on in Shepard's head, hearing all these reports about bringing her back after losing two years of her life. "Shepard."

She looked at him expressionlessly. He motioned to the door and she nodded, shutting the console off and moving to join him.

* * *

Wilson was alive. Even as Jacob crouched to take a look at his leg, Wilson's eyes moved to Shepard, watching her with a kind of wary awe. He must have felt like Dr. Frankenstein watching his creation walking around for the first time. Jacob winced at that thought and made a note not to say it out loud when Shepard was within hearing range. The wound was a graze. A bad one, but there was nothing lodged in him. He lifted his head as someone stepped up to his other side and looked up to see Shepard holding a tube of medi-gel out to him. He took it, nodding in thanks, and smoothed it over the wound while Wilson gritted his teeth. Shepard wandered away and came back with bandages this time, binding the wound up. Jacob helped Wilson climb slowly to his feet. "Thanks, Shepard. Never thought you'd save my life. Guess that makes us even now."

Wilson started to say more but cut himself off when he saw the look on Shepard's face. She was studying him intently with that fixed, narrow eyed stare again. It made Jacob feel jumpy and he wasn't even on the receiving end of it. Wilson hurried on speaking. "I thought maybe I could shut down the security mechs. But whoever did this fried the whole system. Completely irreversible."

Something about the defensive way he said it irked Jacob. "We didn't ask what you were doing." He narrowed his own eyes at Wilson as a thought occurred to him. "Why do you even have security mech clearance? You were in the bio wing."

Wilson glared at him. "Weren't you listening? I came here to try and fix this. Besides, I was shot! How do you explain that?"

"Shot," Shepard said, her eyes on his bandaged leg. "Only once."

"She's right, you're lucky they didn't smear you over the floor like everyone else," Jacob said. "Where's Miranda? We can't leave her behind."

Wilson waved an impatient hand. "Forget about Miranda. She was over in D wing. The mechs were all over that sector. There's no way she survived."

Jacob glanced at Shepard, who was still staring at Wilson's leg with an odd look on her face. She shrugged, her speech stilted as she answered his unasked question: "She woke me up. I lost contact with her not long before I met you, but that was when everything started to go on the fritz. She didn't sound like she was being attacked at the time."

"A bunch of mechs won't drop Miranda." Jacob couldn't imagine Miranda allowing herself to die in such a commonplace manner. "She's alive."

"Then where is she?" Wilson sounded exasperated and strangely angry. "Why haven't we heard from her?" He leaned forward. "There's only two possible explanations: she's either dead...or she's a traitor!"

Shepard, surprisingly, spoke up before Jacob could come up with an indignant response. "Then why bother waking me up and warning me about the attack?"

Miranda would be happy to know Shepard's higher brain functions were apparently working.

Wilson went on the defensive again. "Okay, maybe she's not a traitor. But that doesn't change the facts. We're here, she's not. We have to save ourselves. The shuttle bay is only a few..."

His words cut off with a yell as mechs burst in through a door at the other side of the room. Jacob spun, his gun coming up, but Shepard was already stepping forward, her arm raising with eerie precision, the omni-tool built into her armor blinking as she aimed it at a set of canisters against the wall. Wilson turned away as they exploded, blowing the mechs to pieces.

Wilson blinked at her for a moment. "Wow, I guess she managed to bring you back the way you were after all." He sounded a bit nervous for some reason. "Let's get out of here."

Shepard turned her head to regard him silently again, her gaze moving between him and Jacob. That look was like a kick in the gut to Jacob. Up until this point he'd assumed she was running almost purely on instinct, but that look made him wonder if she wasn't faking some of it. That couldn't go on, she was too dangerous to have at their backs, especially with Wilson hurt. It was a risk, but he decided to go with his instincts. Jacob waited until she looked at him again before speaking. "This is getting tense. Shepard, if I tell you who we work for, will you trust me?"

She started a bit, cocking her head.

Wilson looked appalled. "This really isn't the time, Jacob."

Shepard's eyes narrowed into slits this time around, fixing on Wilson with such open hostility, he actually took a step backward. Jacob raised an eyebrow at him. "We won't get far if she's expecting a shot in the back."

Wilson leaned back against a stack of crates, shaking his head. "If you want to piss off the boss, it's your ass Jacob."

He was actually more worried about Shepard's reaction, but it was too late now. "The Lazarus Project, the program that rebuilt you...it's funded and controlled by Cerberus."

_That_ name got a response. No emotion she had showed so far was anywhere near as intense as the violent rage that passed across her face and eyes. Jacob was looking right at her and actually saw the exact moment she considered shooting them both. Wilson pushed away from the crates in alarm and Jacob's hand tightened on his gun. He didn't dare raise it, afraid of setting her off. He obviously didn't need to remind her she and Cerberus had a history. "According to the Alliance, we're a radical pro-human splinter group. You wiped out several of our research bases. But things change."

"The admiral."

He blinked, startled by the change from rage to grief. "What?"

"You killed Admiral Kahoku. Threw his body in with the rachni. After you fed his men to thresher maws."

"Shepard..."

"Just like...just like...Toombs. _Toombs._ _Akuze._ " She _snarled_ the last word, the rage coming back, leaping from emotion to emotion like a crazed gazelle.

Wilson was back against the crates again, pressing into them like was hoping to melt through them and give him some cover. But Shepard swung away from them, pacing back and forth a few feet away, her movements violent and jerky.

Jacob forced his voice to remain calm and steady. No easy feat, he was proud of himself for managing it. "The Alliance declared you dead. They gave up. Cerberus spent a fortune to bring you back."

She stopped pacing and stared at him. "Why?" She sounded relatively calm, but that didn't make Jacob feel any better. He'd heard enough to know the quieter she got, the more danger you were in. He'd rather have her ranting at him than that cold, focused anger. He had a chance of surviving with the ranting.

"That'll take a bit more time to explain." Jacob tried to appeal to her practicality. "Look, Shepard, I'd be suspicious too. But right now, we have to work together. I thought you deserved to know what's what."

She stared at him for a minute longer, searching his face silently, absorbing that and considering it. For the first time, Jacob was absolutely certain he'd done the right thing, because she nodded slowly, accepting the reality of the situation. "Once we're off the station, I'll take you to the Illusive Man. He'll explain everything, I promise."

"The Illusive Man." Shepard seemed to be trying out the name like she was tasting it, each syllable precise.

"Not his real name, of course," Wilson said. "Nobody knows who he really is."

Jacob shrugged. "It was a code name the Alliance used for him. It kinda stuck."

"It was the guy at that third research lab that told me the name," Shepard mused, almost talking to herself. "After we killed everyone else and set everything up to blow the place to hell." She smiled in satisfaction at the memory.

Jacob and Wilson exchanged a glance.

Her smile faded. "Did the same thing with Saleon. Except we didn't blow his ship and he died..."

"Shepard," Jacob said cautiously.

"Garrus..." Shepard's voice softened. Jacob had started to pick up on a pattern with her. He wasn't any sort of expert on brain waves, but he was willing to bet these moments when her mind wandered came when her memories started to really come back to her. She stirred when he spoke and her eyes focused again. "All right."

"Ready to move?" Jacob asked.

"Yes."

"It's not much further to the shuttle bay," Wilson added. He studied Shepard as they moved out. "Commander, if your omni-tool is working, why aren't you using the tech armor?"

"The what?"

"That only came out a year ago, Wilson," Jacob reminded him.

"Oh, crap. Right, right. Hang on." He cautiously approached Shepard and pointed to her omni-tool. "It's a specialized tech. I think you can handle it."

Shepard lifted the omni-tool and studied the commands. Wilson watched her with a sharp gaze, looking pleased when she quickly picked out what command to use. What looked like a yellow hologram which was actually a specially built shield appeared over her armor. Shepard looked fascinated. "Cool..."

Jacob had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at the almost child-like wonder in her voice. _And they talk about_ men _and their toys._

It helped. Shepard had picked up on how Jacob fought by then, so they were able to work in a steady pattern as they made their way to the shuttle bay, using a mixture of biotics and bullets to take down the mechs in their way while Wilson backed them up. It was a long, grueling process and they both were wrung out by the time they reached the shuttle bay doors. Jacob could honestly say he'd never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. He could have kissed those sterile door panels.

Wilson hurried forward to open the door, grinning wildly. C'mon, through here. We're almost at the..."

The doors slid open and Wilson stopped mid sentence as he came face to face with Miranda Lawson.

Jacob said her name with a sigh of relief. He'd known the mechs couldn't take her down. Wilson wasn't as happy, his voice rising in pitch. "Miranda? But you were..."

Miranda calmly lifted her gun and shot him point blank in the chest. "Dead?"

Jacob let out a yelp of shock before he could stop himself. "What the hell are you doing?"

Miranda glanced down to make certain Wilson was dead, her voice calm. "My job. Wilson betrayed us all."

Shepard came up behind Jacob, looking down at Wilson's body with mild interest. Miranda studied her, looking her over carefully for a moment before turning her attention back to Jacob. "He sabotaged the security systems, killed my staff, and he would have killed us."

Jacob was struggling to believe it for the same reason he didn't believe Miranda had been a traitor: why would he put all that work into Shepard only to kill her off now? "Are you sure about that, Miranda? We've known Wilson for years. What if you're wrong?"

"I'm never wrong. I thought you'd have learned that by now, Jacob."

"The ice queen."

Both of them looked at Shepard, startled. She gazed back at them mildly, pointing at Wilson. "That's what he called you."

Miranda frowned at her for a moment. She shook her head. "Let's get to the shuttle bays and go. My boss wants to speak to you."

"The Illusive Man." Jacob once more took note of the way she said the name, with a strange sort of relish. He might have said it was admiration except for the clear note of malice in her voice.

Miranda sighed. "Ah, Jacob. I should have known your conscience would get the better of you."

"Lying to the commander isn't the way to get her to join our cause," Jacob said.

Miranda looked over at Shepard. "Well, since we're getting everything out in the open, is there anything else you'd like to ask before we go, Commander?" she asked sarcastically.

"No."

The terse answer actually seemed to startle Miranda for a moment. She recovered quickly and turned. "Then let's go."


	4. Illusive Memories

Shepard was fairly certain her head was going to explode, and wouldn't that be interesting?

She stared out at the shuttle window, taking no heed of Miranda and Jacob talking quietly at the front. She had a dim thought that she probably should be paying attention, gathering information, but she was having a hard time keeping her thoughts on one path. There really wasn't much of a point in listening in if she didn't have the brain power to put the information to any use.

Without a task to focus on or something threatening her survival, her thoughts had scattered into the same buzz of disjointed memories and thoughts that had exploded into existence from the moment the white hot shock of pain had ripped her from blackness back into consciousness. It was like a jigsaw puzzle, a jumble of pieces that formed a picture, but her brain had to put the pieces back together first- blindfolded - before she could see the whole of it. Obviously her training was coming back because she hadn't even had to think about using her biotics or her gun, the movements coming to her on instinct.

_I died._

It was getting easier to think, but everything was still such a mess...

_A path is built by setting one stone at a time, cherie._

Her mother's favorite saying. She closed her eyes, breathing in slowly.

One stone at a time: her name was Arian Marie Shepard. Her mother was Mirette Shepard, daughter of Lianmei Rostov Shepard and Douglas Shepard, sister of Louis Shepard. She was twenty nine years old, at least officially. She was a N7 ranked marine of the Alliance, Sentinel class. She was a the first human to be accepted into the Spectres and that was an acronym but she couldn't remember what it stood for. She was...had been...the commander of the SSV Normandy.

_I died._

Which had blown up. Oh, God.

Images flashed through her head in rapid succession. She remembered helping Joker get to the escape pod and then a violent explosion that had started to tear her away. She'd only had time to shut the pod and send it off before the Normandy was torn apart.

She remembered dying.

She remembered panic clawing through her when she couldn't get air, every part of her paralyzing as blackness reached up to choke her.

She remembered a flayed hand.

She pulled her thoughts away from that desperately, mentally flailing for something to latch onto. Joker. Liara. Tali. Kaidan. Jesus, they'd all been there...

"Survivors." Her voice came out harsher than she'd intended, startling Jacob and Miranda. Cerberus. They were enemies, she didn't want to show any weakness or give away more than she could, but she had to know. "On the Normandy. Did anyone else make it?"

Jacob must have heard the plea in her voice because he hastened to reassure her. "Almost everyone did, Shepard. Most of the people who died were on the CIC deck. Pressley, I know he died...but the asari, the quarian, and Kaidan Alenko survived, I know that much. And your pilot."

She missed the glance he and Miranda shared. Pressley. Her navigator and XO. Old war hero. Worried too much. Dead. She thought she ought to feel sorrow, but her emotions seemed too numb.

"We can get you a list of the dead," Jacob offered. That was a kindness she didn't expect from him. In fact, she was hard pressed to believe Jacob was part of Cerberus. He seemed to be a genuinely nice man.

Now, Miranda, on the other hand...

"Since we're on the subject," she woman said briskly. "We should probably evaluate your condition before you meet with the Illusive Man."

Ice queen indeed. She probably should have been offended, but Miranda struck her as the exact type she had pegged for Cerberus.

"Come on, Miranda. More tests?" Jacob protested. "She took down those mechs without any trouble. That has to be good enough."

"It's been two years since the attack," Miranda said implacably. "The Illusive Man needs to know that Shepard's personality and memories are intact."

"Two years." For the first time, the reality of that sank in. She'd been dead for two years. She wasn't twenty nine, she was thirty one. She let her head fall back against the wall.

Jacob shot Miranda an angry look. "Two years and twelve days. And you were on the operating table for most of it."

But she _can't_ have been dead. They could not have brought her back if she had been dead. That was impossible. But she had been. She had no way of explaining how she _knew_ that, but she did. "The Pope will be very displeased that I didn't go to hell...I think I'd remember, yes? Do you smell brimstone?"

Jacob's mouth almost quirked into a smile. "Well, there's your personality showing up, Miranda."

Miranda merely looked impatient. "The sooner we start, the sooner we can be done. Start with personal history."

Jacob sighed. "Okay. Shepard, records show you were a colony kid. Lost your parents when slavers hit Mindoir."

"Fucking batarians," Shepard growled. She could see the four eyed bastards in her mind's eye. Following that stone on the path, she ticked off all the other species she knew and was pleased they came easily. Turian, asari, quarian, salarian, krogan, elcor, volus...the tentacled ones, what were they...hanar!...drell. Rachni...Thorian...no, there was only one Thorian. Had been. It was dead now. Keepers...

_The monster above the burning planet._

_Reapers..._

She stiffened, but Jacob didn't seem to notice. "You, uh..." he hesitated. "You survived a thresher maw attack after you enlisted. Do you remember?"

"Yes." Her hand went to her left shoulder automatically. "Don't you? It was Cerberus that caused it."

"That's not true, Commander," Miranda said smoothly.

"And then you took Toombs and experimented on him for years until he killed off your scientists then killed himself," Shepard said, ignoring her, memories coming faster now. "You used the same trick on Admiral Kahoku's men and then killed him when he tried to avenge them. That's when we blew up all those research stations." She remembered Liara getting her a list and frowned. "There were a couple more I missed initially. Liara found them for me. I kept meaning to go back and get them and I never did." She supposed she wouldn't get the chance now.

Miranda's lips had thinned down to a white line, her eyes flashing. Jacob looked at her. "Satisfied, Miranda?"

"Almost," Miranda said coldly. There was a glint in her eye. "Let's try something more recent. Virmire. When you destroyed the cloning facility. You had to leave one of your squad to die in the blast."

" _You kind of have bad taste in men, Commander."_

" _No, I have a taste for bad men."_

"Ash..." she whispered.

Jacob leaned forward, nodding. "Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams was killed in action. It was your call. Why did you leave her behind?" He asked it as gently as that question could be asked.

Shepard pressed her fingers to her temple, squeezing her eyes shut. Her memories were coming clearer and clearer, the picture pulling together. Which was not a blessing in this case. "I thought I had time to go back for her. Kaidan was guarding the bomb, Saren's geth dropped into the courtyard. I had to make sure it went off. But I thought I would have time to go back for her. Ash...she knew...she knew she was going to die there, I could hear it in her voice." She leaned forward. "She was a good soldier," she said aggressively, needing that to be understood and not caring who was doing the understanding. "She was the _best_."

Jacob leaned back. "No one is questioning that, Commander. No one ever has."

Placated, she leaned back as well. "She gave her life for us. Without her, we wouldn't have stopped Saren. That poor bastard. She was a hero."

"I understand, Commander. I wasn't judging your decision. Everybody at Cerberus knows that cloning facility had to be destroyed."

"God forbid there be mindless alien clones out there that someone besides Cerberus controls," Shepard said without thinking. She let her head fall back against the wall again with an audible thunk, her brow furrowing. "That was another research facility. Had to destroy it, because the experiments were out of control. Those things the Thorian made. How the hell did you get those?"

Miranda ignored that. "Think back to the Citadel, after the Alliance saved the Destiny Ascension, and you killed Saren. What happened next?"

"I didn't kill Saren, he killed himself. The poor bastard," Shepard said again, staring at the ceiling. "Only he got back up again."

She had a captive audience now. Neither of them had heard this part of the story.

"He was a robot...thing. Sovereign did it to him. To indoctrinate him fully." She shuddered, the horror of that thought sweeping through her, the bone deep terror of the idea of being indoctrinated shivering through her bones. "When we killed that, they killed Sovereign."

"Interesting," Miranda murmured absently, typing something into a datapad.

Something in Shepard's brain clicked firmly into place and she straightened up. She was giving information away without a thought. Not a good idea. Miranda glanced back up at her. "I was referring to what happened after all that."

Shepard frowned. "Humanity was offered a spot on the Council. They asked me if I had a recommendation for someone..."

"Who did you pick?"

"No one?" It came out as a question, uncertainty lacing her voice. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded more firmly. "No one. I thought it was best to leave politics to the politicians. The Alliance and Parliament chose Ambassador Udina for the spot, I think."

"They did," Jacob confirmed.

Shepard scowled. "I didn't like him."

"He wasn't too fond of you either, Commander," Jacob said, straight faced.

A reluctant smile curved her lips. "No, he wasn't."

She wanted to ask what had become of Anderson and Kaidan and the rest of her friends, but held her tongue. She would be able to find all that out without their help eventually.

"Your memory seems solid," Miranda said, sounding satisfied. "There are really other tests we should run-"

"Come on, Miranda, enough with the quizzes. The memories are there, and I can vouch for Shepard's combat skills personally."

That brought her back to the fact there was a bone deep ache all throughout her body. She grimaced. "I can't remember the last time I was this tired after a fight..."

"You're not up to physical peak, Shepard, that's only to be expected," Miranda said. "You'll need to build your muscles back up. We'll have to hope the Illusive Man accepts our little field test as evidence enough."

Shepard couldn't see herself through the armor but she could feel that her arm was a lot skinnier than normal. She didn't want to think back to the reasons why now, it made her dizzy.

She had died...and come back. "Miranda?"

"Commander?"

Apparently, she hadn't lost her sick sense of humor. "If this was the Lazarus Project and you brought me back, does that make you Jesus?"

* * *

Her lord and savior hadn't mentioned that she would not be seeing God Himself in person.

Shepard frowned a bit as she stepped into the center of a holographic transmitter. It was huge, bigger than any she'd ever seen, obviously meant to project her image into a matching one in the Illusive Man's chamber. She didn't anticipate it returning the favor threefold. She not only saw an image of the Illusive Man, she saw an image of what was either a very, very impressive fake background, or the Illusive Man actually lived above a supernova.

Since the Illusive Man was obviously putting on a show for her, she didn't disappoint him, studying him silently. He looked to be in his late 40s or early 50s, a well built man with a rigidly neat coif of silver hair and dressed in an elegant suit. He lounged, the picture of confidence, in a small chair that sat in the middle of a floor crafted of shiny black tiles, the better to reflect the violent colors that ran over the surface of the dying sun at his back. It looked ready to explode, scintillating shades of red and blue and yellow moving in restless patterns.

Even as she watched, the Illusive Man reached inside his jacket, pulling a cigarette out of a slim silver case, lighting it with an old fashioned lighter, and raising it to his mouth. All in one smooth movement. Shepard eyed the cigarette with a hint of wistfulness and nostalgia, having a sudden craving for one of the hand rolled cigarettes she'd gotten from the colonists when she had been working for the Alliance along the Attican Traverse. She'd smoked the last one the night she'd been given the Normandy and hadn't touched one since.

Against the violent colors of the supernova behind him, the Illusive Man presented a dramatic picture of power. Masterful, sophisticated, and untouchable, like he could tame that sun behind him with a single languid gesture. It should have looked overdone and way too poised, but somehow he managed to pull it off.

She might have been impressed if she could have stopped the image of him sliding around the floor in that chair, carefully setting everything up so he could be posed and ready by the time the holograph appeared.

_Do you think he practices looking stern and dignified in the mirror every morning? Like target practice, only making faces?_ Garrus' voice echoed through her head out of nowhere, dryly wondering that aloud about Ambassador Udina. She had to literally bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The Illusive Man was finally deigning to speak. "Commander Shepard."

"Illusive Man. I thought we'd be meeting face to face."

"A necessary precaution," he replied. She couldn't pick up an accent in his voice. It was as calm and carefully cultured as the rest of him. He took a drag from his cigarette. "Not unusual for people who know what you and I know." He took a drink from a shot glass sitting on the arm of his chair she hadn't noticed before, setting it down and looking straight at her. For the first time, she noticed how whacked out his eyes were. They glowed blue and seemed to be made up of concentric rings, eerily mechanical. She couldn't tell if they were real or a trick with the hologram.

She didn't like a statement that put them both together in any way and didn't bother to hide it. Every moment she spent in his presence (so to speak) had her hackles raising and she couldn't pinpoint why. Maybe it was the idea that those eyes of his could see right through her and she wasn't up to trying to fool him. As if to confirm her thoughts, he leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You need to put your personal feelings aside, Shepard."

Shepard fought hard to hide her annoyance that he could, indeed, read her so easily.

"Humanity is up against the greatest threat of our existence."

That was the one thing that could capture her full attention. "The Reapers."

"Good to see your memory is still intact. How are you feeling?" The question sounded sincere. Of course, he could sincerely be concerned his investment was feeling off.

She stirred, acknowledging the small part of her that had been hoping to meet him face to face. "I'm kind of disappointed I can't put a bullet in your brain and try and fight my way out," she answered without thinking. She really was hoping the filter in her brain that helped her learn to keep her fucking mouth shut would click on soon. On the other hand, she was being honest. She'd probably die, but she would take him out at the same time, truly avenging all the people that had suffered at Cerberus' hands. The idea of them spending so much time and money to bring her back only to gun her down was a blackly pleasing one. They'd all go out in one blaze of ridiculous pointlessness.

The Illusive Man merely nodded, not appearing surprised at all, which vexed her. He could have at least been polite enough to be annoyed by the threat. "Cerberus isn't as evil as you believe."

" _As_ evil." She liked that. Evil, but not _that_ evil.

The Illusive Man ignored her. Miranda must have picked some tricks up from him. "You and I are on the same side; we just have different methods."

She so wasn't going to get into this kind of battle of wits with him. She wasn't up to that kind of argument on her best day. "What are the Reapers doing?" Fear flooded through her. They couldn't be attacking yet, could they?

The Illusive Man rose to his feet. "We're at war. No one wants to admit it, but humanity is under attack. While you've been sleeping, entire colonies have been disappearing. Human colonies. We believe its someone working for the Reapers. Just as Saren and the geth aided Sovereign. You've seen it yourself. You bested all of them. That's just one reason we chose you."

"What do you mean, disappearing?"

"I mean everyone gone. Men, women, children, all gone."

Shepard felt dizzy. She clenched a fist. "How do I know that for sure? I'll I've been hearing from you and your people is words, with nothing to back it up."

"I'd be disappointed if I could persuade you that easily. Go and see for yourself." The Illusive Man turned and walked back to his chair. "I have a shuttle waiting to take you to Freedom's Progress, the latest colony to be abducted. Miranda and Jacob will brief you." He settled into the chair again. "If you don't find the evidence we're both looking for, we can part ways. But first, go to Freedom's Progress. Find any clues you can. Who's abducting the colonies? Do they have any connection to the Reapers? I brought you back, it's up to you to do the rest."

"No need to get dramatic." Shepard fell silent, going over the information and considering her options. Somehow, despite the Illusive Man's gregariousness, she didn't think he would just let her walk out of here. She could get into the shuttle and possibly overpower Jacob and Miranda, then steal the shuttle and hope she got far enough to ditch it before Cerberus caught up with her. It was a stretch, though.

And then there was the little matter of the fact he might be telling the truth, which bought a sick swoop of apprehension in her stomach. She had to know. She had to know if it was true before she made any other decision. "All right."

The Illusive Man nodded again, as if expecting nothing else, and shut the hologram down.


	5. Ghost Colony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arian's Labyrinth tattoo: http://kdlala.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2p8kmg

Miranda was standing at the console she had been working on when Shepard had first arrived at the station. She didn't look up from it as Shepard wandered up. "The Illusive Man is very impressed with you. I'm eager to see if you can live up to his expectations on this mission." She glanced up at Shepard, giving her a clinical look. "A lot of people lost their lives on that station. I just hope it was worth it."

"Are we going to have a problem, Operative Lawson?" Shepard asked mildly. She gave herself a mental pat on the back, she was regaining the ability not to spout out the first sarcastic statement that came to mind.

"I have the utmost respect for your abilities, Shepard. It's your motivations that concern me." Miranda said, leaning back from the console. "I believe in what Cerberus stands for. Only time will tell if you prove to be an asset to our cause or a liability."

"Because you've studied my history and know I hang out with the weird sections of humanity, have no real ambition and fuck aliens?" Okay, so maybe the brain filter wasn't _quite_ in place yet. She smiled as Miranda stiffened ever so slightly. She was good, Shepard wouldn't have caught it if she hadn't been watching for it. "See? My memories are coming back fine." Her smile vanished and the two women studied each other coolly for a long moment. "I am utterly dedicated to stopping the Reapers, Ms. Lawson. Of that, you can be absolutely sure." She might have despised Cerberus, but she hated the Reapers more. The more she remembered, the more that hatred grew.

It must have shown on her face, because Miranda nodded tersely and turned away. "We've got an assignment to do."

* * *

"Freedom's Progress." Shepard studied the datapad in her hand, sitting across from Jacob and Miranda in the shuttle.

"It's a pretty old colony," Jacob offered. "It isn't one of the larger ones, though, probably why it wasn't one of the first to be hit."

"And there haven't been any survivors found at any of the others?" Shepard set the datapad down, troubled.

"None," Miranda confirmed.

"Be nice if we found some. Anything is better than another ghost town."

Thinking back to Eden Prime and other places where the Reapers' influence had been, Shepard wasn't so sure of that, but said nothing. She checked her upgraded armor and guns over as they approached the colony. She'd had a chance to rest up and felt much better. Much better than she should have, as a matter of fact. Miranda had mentioned the cybernetics making her up should balance out the weakness of her muscles for the moment and once she was back in top form, she would actually be a bit stronger than she was before. Her biotic implant was new and state of the art as well, which meant her biotics were a little stronger than she remembered. Wasn't that a kick in the ass?

Her new armor had updated tech armor, which was a toy she was becoming inordinately fond of. She layered a biotic barrier over herself carefully to compliment it, moving a bit to make sure it wouldn't mess anything up, and let it drop. No point in wearing her biotics out until they actually hit danger.

Freedom's Progress was a mining colony. It had more defenses than most small colonies got, which she supposed was necessary since it was located inside the Terminus Systems. Even the most diplomatic and kind hearted of Alliance members stationed out around the colonies wouldn't have been able to help them. Like most colonists, however, they were used to taking care of themselves.

Jacob calling it a ghost town had been spot on. The silence was eerie. Around this time, people should have been eating dinner and heading out for a drink or settling in with their families. There were signs of that: supper food set out on the tables, overturned chairs, things laying shattered on the floor like they had been dropped suddenly.

"No bodies," Miranda commented. "No structural damage and no signs of battle."

Shepard nodded, glancing around, unnerved. "They had a small militia too, if something had attacked full out, they would have fought back."

"The security systems were disabled on the other colonies," Miranda said.

"I don't think that's the case here." Jacob held a hand up.

Because of the silence of the colony, the sounds of whirring and electronic voices boomed as they opened the door to a warehouse.

"FENRIS mechs," Jacob called, spinning behind a crate.

Compared to the looming army of mechs on the Lazarus station, it wasn't a very big group they had to take out. They had the advantage of better equipment and a third trained fighter with them this time as well. Shepard frowned as she bent over one of the fallen FENRIS mechs, trying to figure out what was up with its programming.

"They shouldn't have attacked us," Jacob said, echoing her thoughts. "They should have recognized us as human."

"Someone reprogrammed them to attack on sight." Miranda looked at Shepard for confirmation. The commander leaned back, nodding, able to figure that out from the mech itself but not much else. She'd need the control room for that. "We're not alone here."

But if there were survivors, why would they program the mechs to attack on sight? That would hinder any rescue attempts. It _was_ hindering a rescue attempt.

Mechs she was expecting as they made their way further inward. Human survivors she was hoping for. But quarians? That was a big surprise. Shepard brought both her guns up automatically as the door opened, revealing a group of masked figures clad in envirosuits gathered around a table. One of the quarians spun, pointing a gun at them and snapping, "Stop right there!"

Shepard motioned for Jacob and Miranda to stand down. Miranda noted later that Shepard didn't even think about it, making the gesture with the ease of a woman who was used to being obeyed. If the sight of the quarians wasn't shocking enough, the woman's voice that came from behind the one holding a gun on them took her breath away. "Prazza! You said you'd let me handle this!"

She _knew_ that voice, knew the young quarian that swung in between them and Prazza. "Tali?"

Tali'Zorah froze. "...Shepard?"

"I'm not taking any chances with Cerberus operatives," Prazza said.

Shepard winced at being included in that catagory.

"Put those weapons down!" Tali said with a trace of steel in her voice that was new to Shepard. She turned back. "Shepard? Is that...you're alive?"

Shepard managed a crooked smile. Despite all the gun pointing, she found herself unbelievably happy to see a familiar face. So to speak. "Hello, my queen."

Tali's breath escaped through her mask in a rush. "How?"

"I don't fully understand the details myself, but apparently they rebuilt me from the ground up." Shepard jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Miranda. "We came to see what's up with the attacks on these human colonies."

"You'll pardon us for not taking you at your word, Cerberus," Prazza said with open hostility. Puzzled, Shepard tried to remember if there was particularly bad blood between Cerberus and the quarians. She couldn't remember anything in particular besides the obvious fact that the quarians were aliens.

"We're well within our rights to investigate these attacks on a human colony," Miranda said. "I'd like to know what quarians are doing here."

Her tone could have used some work, but that was actually a damn good question. She turned her gaze to Tali, who glared over her shoulder at Prazza. "Weapons down, Prazza. Whatever's going on here, I don't think we need another fight."

Prazza stood down, though with visible reluctance.

Tali addressed Shepard, not even looking at Miranda. "One of our people was here on Pilgrimage. His name is Veetor. We came to find him."

"He came _here_?" Shepard said, surprised.

"Quarians can choose where they go on Pilgrimage. Veetor liked the idea of helping a small settlement. He was always...nervous in crowds."

"Ah."

"She means he was unstable," Prazza said. "Combine that with damage to his suit's CO2 scrubbers and an infection from an open-air exposure, and he's likely delirious."

"Was he the one that reprogrammed the mechs?" Shepard asked. That would explain a lot.

Tali nodded. "When he saw us landing, he hid in a warehouse on the far side of town. We suspect he reprogrammed them to attack anything that moved."

"So you need to get to him before he gets any worse and we need to find out what happened here. Sounds like we have the same goal," Shepard said.

Tali nodded. "You'll need two teams to get past the drones, anyway."

Prazza took a step forward. "Now we're working with Cerberus?"

"No, Prazza, you're working for me," Tali said coldly. "If you can't follow orders, go wait on the ship."

Shepard applauded the slap down silently. Obviously, Tali had come up in the world since her Pilgrimage. Tali turned back to her. "Head for the warehouse through the center of the colony. We'll circle around the far side and draw off some of the drones to clear you a path."

Shepard went over that and nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a plan." She tapped her comm. "Keep in contact, yes?"

"Will do. Good luck, Shepard. See you on the far side."

Shepard narrowed her eyes at her. "Hey, you stole that line from me."

"You weren't using it," Tali said pertly, leading her team out of the warehouse.

* * *

"I love Overload. It's my best friend in the whole world," Shepard sang, watching a mech drop to the ground.

Miranda glanced over at her impatiently, but she heard Jacob chuckle in agreement.

" _Shepard!"_ Tali's voice crackled over the comm. _"Prazza and his squad rushed ahead. I told them to wait, but they wouldn't listen! They want to find Veetor and take him away before you get there!"_

"We should have expected this," Miranda said in disgust.

"We could tell he was hot headed and suspicious. We had no idea he was stupid too," Shepard said.

As Tali had warned, there were rocket drones as well as mechs now, floating through the air to land and fire at them.

" _Shepard, we're in the loading docks. Hurry!"_ Tali said urgently. _"Veetor reprogrammed a heavy mech. It's tearing Prazza's squad apart!"_

"Idiot," Shepard muttered.

"He did want to get to Veetor first," Miranda commented.

Tali continued, _"Get your squad into cover and I'll open the loading bay doors."_

Miranda and Jacob each moved to one side of the door and Shepard crouched behind a crate. "Now, Tali!"

The only good thing Shepard could say about the sight of the YMIR mech, a very big, heavy plated son of a bitch that towered above them, was that there was no way a colony this size could have more than one. The bay doors opened to the sight of quarians trying to flee or fight and getting mowed down, unable to stand up to it. Shepard urged them to take cover and was relieved to see Tali off to the side doing just that.

Shepard narrowed her eyes, peering around a crate as the mech moved forward.

Her body might not entirely up to speed, but her training was still there, ingrained in every line of her brain.

The first thing they had to do was get rid of its shields. Dark energy rippled around her as Jacob and Miranda unloaded on the thing. Shepard spun out from behind the crate while it turned toward them and sent a warp field rippling through the air. The mech stopped and shuddered, giving Jacob time to dodge to another position, flanking it. Jacob's shots were hurting it the most, hitting its head almost every single time. When it swung toward her, Shepard threw a stasis field around it, surprised once again at the strength of it, she didn't think she could have held something that big before. It gave her a few moments to find cover, trapping it between her and Jacob. She knew when its shields finally failed because the light on its 'face' started blinking more rapidly. Another shudder went through it and Miranda darted forward, picking a crate up with biotics and hurling it hard at the thing. It was knocked back, slamming into a ramp as it exploded.

Shepard came out from around the crate, searching the area cautiously. "Tali?" she said into her comm. There was no answer. Worried, she moved through the warehouse, finally finding the surviving quarians being tended, to her relief, by Tali. The quarian girl looked up and pointed. "Veetor's probably at the back of the loading bay. I'll tend to the wounded."

Shepard nodded and moved out. Jacob pointed silently to an office pod a bit larger than the others toward the back and she nodded. It opened to reveal a dark room lit by little more than a series of screens on the back wall. There was a quarian sitting in a chair in front of them, muttering to himself so low, Shepard had to strain to hear him. "Monsters coming back. Mechs will protect. Safe from swarms. Have to hide. No monsters. No swarms. No-no-no-no-no."

Shepard approached him cautiously. "Uh...Veetor?"

"No Veetor. Not here. Swarms can't find. Monsters coming. Have to hide."

Impatient, Shepard raised her omni-tool and blanked the screens he was staring at. Veetor jerked back, making a low, startled sound, and spun around. Shepard immediately felt guilty for jolting him like that. Jesus, he was just a kid. He was younger than Tali. Veetor stared at them. "You're human. Where did you hide? How come they didn't find you?"

"Who didn't find us?" Miranda asked, her voice sharp.

"The...the monsters. The swarms. They took everyone."

"Monsters? Swarms?" Shepard shook her head.

"You don't know. You didn't see. But I see everything." Veetor hurried back to the screens and did something with his omni tool.

Shepard had seen some seriously weird creatures in her travels. There were beasts that lived beneath the sand of certain desert planets that could creep tendrils up around your legs and drag you down before you realized what was happening. There were wasp-like beasts as long as her arm that could impale a full grown man with their stingers. There were thresher maws that could eat an entire squad of soldiers without taking a single hit. She'd come across the Thorian, which was a plant creature older than the Protheans that could control people using spores.

But this...

The security footage that Veetor brought up showed a scene out of a nightmare. Swarms and monsters, just like he said. Winged bugs that ranged from the size of her fist to bigger than her head flitted past the cameras and the cameras swung to focus on a man sized beast that walked on two legs. The resemblance to humans ended there. Spines and rippled plating covered it from head to toe and its head had a large, sweeping crest.

"My God..." Miranda whispered. "I think it's a Collector."

Shepard looked back at her. "I thought they were a myth."

Jacob shook his head. "They come from beyond the Omega 4 relay. They're real, it's just only a few people have ever seen one in person."

"They usually work through intermediaries," Miranda said, "like slavers or hired mercenaries. If they're involved with the Reapers somehow, it could explain what happened to the colonies."

"They have advanced technology. They could have a weapon that disables an entire settlement at once," Jacob agreed.

"The seeker swarms. No one can hide. The seekers find you. Freeze you. Then the monsters take you away."

"They didn't kill them...?" Shepard didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

Veetor shook his head. "The monsters took the people onto the ship, and then they left. The ship flew away. But they'll be back for me. No one escapes!"

"I think that's all we're getting out of him, Commander," Jacob said quietly.

"Thank you, Veetor." Shepard stared at the security footage. At those twisted figures on the screen.

"I studied them. The monsters. The swarms. I recorded them on my omni-tool. Lots of readings. Electro magnetic. Dark energy."

Miranda stepped forward eagerly, bringing up her omni-tool. "We need to get that data to the Illusive Man. I'm calling the shuttle now. You grab the quarian."

"No!" They all turned at the sound of Tali's voice. She stalked up to them, moving to stand next to the younger quarian. "Veetor is injured. He needs treatment, not an interrogation."

Jacob lifted a calming hand. "We won't hurt him. We just need to see if he knows anything else. He'll be returned unharmed."

"Your people tried to betray us once already. If we give him to you, we'll never get the intel we need," Miranda said.

"Prazza was an idiot," Tali snapped, "and he and his men paid for it. You're welcome to take Veetor's omni-tool data, but please, just let me take him."

Shepard made a sharp gesture. "Enough. I doubt he can give us anymore than the omni-tool data has and he's hurt enough already." Unlike Jacob, she didn't trust them not to hurt Veetor. Not after what they did to Toombs. "Take him, Tali."

Miranda looked displeased, but said nothing. Tali nodded. "Thank you, Shepard. I'm glad to see you're still the one giving orders." She hesitated. "Good luck out there. If I find anything that can help you, I'll let you know." Her voice was gentle, but firm, like she knew Shepard was ready to ask her to come along. There was also a wariness in her tone that was like a kick in the gut. Whatever she said, Tali didn't fully trust her. Not when she was with Cerberus. Shepard bit back a protest, wishing she could have a little more time with the quarian. But Tali was already turning to help Veetor out, moving toward the door.

Feeling disheartened, Shepard glanced back at the screen, studying the Collectors and their pets until the shuttle came to pick them up.

* * *

"The quarian forwarded their findings from Veetor's debriefing. No new data, but it's a surprising olive branch, given our history," the Illusive Man said with satisfaction. "You and I have different methods, but I can't argue with your results."

Shepard studied the supernova behind him silently. The Illusive Man seemed to wait for her to say something, then continued on when she didn't. "You confirmed the Collectors are behind the abductions."

"Which doesn't surprise you," Shepard said in a flat voice. She was tired and sad. On the way back, she'd done some serious thinking over what she had learned and had come to a few conclusions she wasn't happy with at all.

"I had my suspicions, but I needed proof. The Collectors are enigmatic at best."

Since she hadn't even believed they were real until an hour ago, she couldn't argue with him on that one.

"They periodically travel to the Terminus Systems, looking to gather seemingly unimportant items or specimens. Usually in exchange for their technology." The Illusive man lit a cigarette up with the same practiced grace. The way he did it, so very carefully poised, inexplicably annoyed her. "When their transactions are complete," he continued, "they disappear as quickly as they arrived: back beyond the unmapped Omega 4 relay. Until now, we've had no evidence of direct aggression by the Collectors."

Shepard stirred. "Why is the Omega 4 relay unmapped?"

"No ship that has gone through it, except the Collector ships, has ever returned. Our best guess is that the relay reacts differently to Collector vessels, allowing them safe passage. If they can manipulate relays..."

"It's more proof they're backed by the Reapers," Shepard finished. Since the Reapers had created the mass relays. She didn't know anything else that could directly alter a mass relay. You could change the destination for the smaller ones that went a shorter distance, but you couldn't mess with the relays themselves, even if it was legal. She looked at him directly for the first time, her eyes narrowed. "That's not the only reason you think the Reapers are involved, though."

"The patterns are there, buried in the data. The Council and the Alliance want to believe the Reaper threat ended with Sovereign. You and I know better."

He gave her a moment to let that sink in. Shepard stared at him. "They haven't done anything toward studying the Reapers? Nothing at all?"

"Admiral Anderson has done some things here and there and there are a few outspoken about it, but for the most part, no." The Illusive Man studied her with those cold, implacable eyes. He reminded her of a predator who didn't need to work hard to trap his prey. It would come to him. She felt a jolt go through her, taking her breath away, as she realized why she recognized that look. Her father had a similar one. That same patient arrogance. "I won't wait until the Reapers are on the march," he continued. "We need to take the fight to them. I've already compiled a list of soldiers, scientists, and mercenaries. You'll get dossiers on the best of them. Finding them and convincing them to work with you could be challenging, but you're a natural leader."

Yes, she was. Time and time again she'd proven that to the Alliance. She had the knowledge of the Reapers and the determination to take the battle to them. What she didn't have was the kind of manpower and funding to fight that kind of battle.

Cerberus did.

_The enemy of my enemy is my friend._

"I'll continue to track the Collectors. When they make their next appearance, I'll notify you and your team. Be ready."

Shepard closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair, letting out a low, humorless chuckle. He had to know the struggle going through her head, so she saw no point in hiding it. "Which one of us is the devil and which one of us is Faust in this bargain, do you figure?"

The Illusive Man didn't answer, simply watching her with that terrible patience. She hated him in that moment, because he was humoring her. He already knew her answer, he was simply waiting her out. He leaned back in his chair. "Before you go, two things. First, head to Omega and find Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant salarian scientist. Our intelligence suggests he may know how to counter the Collectors' paralyzing seeker swarms."

_Omega..._

She felt like she was being pummeled from all sides. "And?"

The Illusive Man smiled, fully gracious since he knew he'd won. "I've found a pilot you might like. I hear he's one of the best. Someone you can trust." He lifted a hand and dismissed the hologram.

A pilot? Shepard blinked at the dark space where the Illusive Man had been. She guessed that meant she was getting a proper ship. She started as she heard something shuffling behind her and turned around.

Jeff "Joker" Moreau smiled at her. "Hey, Commander. Just like old times, huh?"


	6. The Normandy

She stared, wondering if he was a mirage for a long moment, taking a step forward. She saw Joker's eyes widen in shock, his face going pale before he collected himself, but didn't take note of it. He was dressed in black and white like the other Cerberus people she'd seen. Except his hat. He had a ball cap just like his old one. "Joker?"

"The one and only, Commander."

"You're walking..." she said stupidly. She'd never seen him walk without a cane.

"One nice thing about working for Cerberus. Good medical benefits. They did some work on me, so I can move around a bit now." He motioned for her to follow him. "Close your mouth, you'll draw flies."

Shepard drifted after him. "I can't believe it's you."

"Look who's talking," Joker said. "I saw you get spaced."

"I...okay, point taken. I got lucky despite the strings attached. How the hell did you get here, Joker?"

"It all fell apart without you, Commander," Joker said, uncharacteristically sober. "Everything you stirred up, the Council just wanted it gone."

"I was kind of hoping he was exaggerating about that," Shepard murmured.

Joker didn't need to ask who she meant. "The team was broken up, records were sealed, and I was grounded."

"Grounded? You?" How could they be that stupid? She made it a point not to agree with Joker when he bragged he was the best helmsmen in the Alliance but that didn't change the fact that it was true.

Joker nodded. "The Alliance took away the only thing that mattered to me. When someone came and said they were working to bring you back, hell yeah, I joined up."

Shepard fell silent as they walked. "Do you really trust him? The Illusive Man?"

Joker gave her a sharp look. He'd never heard that much uncertainty in her voice before. But then again, he knew how big a grudge she held against Cerberus. "I don't trust anyone who makes more than I do." That got a smile out of her. "But they aren't all bad. Saved your life. Let me fly-."

"None of which they would have done if we didn't know anything about the Reapers," Shepard pointed out. "But I guess you're right."

Joker raised an eyebrow as they came up to a door. "And then there's this...they only told me last night."

The lights came on as the door opened to reveal a large hanger beyond. Shepard's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of the ship within. Her eyes traced along lines she knew as well as the back of her hand.

The Normandy. It was the Normandy.

"Good to be home, huh, Commander?" Joker said quietly.

"How...?"

"I guess they must have hacked the Alliance databases, found the plans for the original, and upgraded it. Sounds like something they would do."

He was right. It was bigger than her Normandy had been. It was decked out in Cerberus black and yellow rather than Alliance colors. She frowned a bit at the Cerberus logo in disapproval. It felt like the Illusive Man was pissing on it to mark his territory.

"Think she needs a name still, Commander," Joker said pointedly.

She snorted, raising an eyebrow at him. "Like that's even a question."

* * *

Shepard had to give the Illusive Man credit: when the man wanted to bribe you, he didn't fuck around.

It was the Normandy...but different. She refused to say better. It was bigger, fancier, with more expensive and updated equipment. Which was a sharp reminder she was two years behind on what the best technology was. Oh, that was intolerable. She'd have to remedy that as soon as possible.

Crewmen milled about and she got a whole lot of strange, wide eyed looks as she passed. She was dressed in simple clothing, having politely refused a Cerberus uniform. There was only so far she was willing to go. Plus the black and white outfit didn't flatter someone of her coloring at _all_.

"Welcome aboard the new Normandy, Commander," Jacob said a bit grandly, earning a crooked smile as she took everything in.

Miranda came up beside her as she wandered around the CIC deck. "I've been looking over the dossiers. I strongly recommend starting by acquiring Mordin Solus, the salarian professor on Omega."

Shepard didn't answer, keeping her face averted so Miranda couldn't catch any expression that might be crossing her face. She didn't want think about Omega right now. She'd only thought about Omega at all during the past decade because she had no intention of ever going back to it.

"We know the Collectors use some kind of advanced technology to immobilize their victims. We'll need him to develop a countermeasure to protect us," Miranda persisted.

"We would be helpless without something like that," Shepard conceded.

" _Acquiring Professor Solus seems like the most logical way to start,"_ a female voice said from behind her.

Shepard turned, blinking, as a hologram appeared on a console not far from her. It was a sphere sitting atop some kind of pedestal, a vertical 'mouth' moving as it spoke. "And you are...?"

" _I am the Normandy's artificial intelligence. The crew like to refer to me as EDI."_

"Oh...nice to meet you, EDI..." They had an AI. They had something on the ship that was outlawed in nearly every place in the galaxy. They had a program that was smarter than they were running the ship. "Um, Joker didn't throw things at you when you introduced yourself to him, did he?"

" _I do not helm the ship, Commander. Mr. Moreau's talents will not go to waste, I believe he understands that,"_ EDI replied. _"During combat, I operate the electronic warfare and cyberwarfare suites. Beyond that, I cannot interface with the ship's systems. I observe and offer analysis and advice. Nothing more."_ The hologram disappeared.

Could an AI get miffed? Shepard wondered, studying the spot where EDI had disappeared and feeling the absurd need to apologize. "Well," she said, a bit off balance. "Okay." She continued on through the ship, letting Miranda and Jacob head to their posts. Jacob was in charge of the armory, she discovered. Miranda...

Shepard was in charge, but Miranda was the link between the Normandy and the Illusive Man. Officially, she was the Normandy's XO, but Miranda had hinted subtly that she was still higher on the Cerberus hierarchy than Shepard was. She was really hoping that wasn't going to become an issue, because everyone was a Cerberus employee. Although knowing Joker would obey an order from her over an order from Miranda...Joker had apparently made _that_ clear...settled her a bit.

"Welcome aboard, Commander."

Shepard glanced over to meet the gaze of a pretty green eyed redhead standing at a console near the galaxy map. She saluted. "I'm Yeoman Kelly Chambers. I've been assigned as your administrative assistant."

"I need an administrative assistant? God, I'm not a CEO for Cerberus' business or anything, am I?" Although, that would be a nice way to ruin some part of Cerberus, which she still wasn't adverse to.

Kelly Chambers smiled patiently. "I'll manage your messages, and help you monitor the crew. And I must say, it's an honor to work under you, Commander Shepard."

"It is? Oh...well, thanks." Shepard ran her fingers through her hair. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Chambers."

"Please, call me Kelly."

"Kelly, then." Shepard eyed her console. "Messages and appointments and such...is that all you do? Don't they still have VI s that can do that?"

"Well, being a yeoman is just my official role. Unofficially, I observe the crew." She shrugged. "Everyone knows how risky this mission is. Many of us may not be coming back. That's a lot of pressure. I have a degree in psychology. I'm good at sensing when people are overly taxed."

"You're the ship's shrink?" Shepard winced. _Filter, Brain, I need that damn filter!_

But Kelly just laughed. "In a word, yes. I'll look for warning signs. I listen. It's not a full time job and it's best done informally."

Shepard pondered this. She'd been on missions where she wasn't sure if she was coming back, but she'd never had an on ship counselor before. "Well, it's good we have someone with your skills on the ship." Except anything she observed, the Illusive Man would probably know too. She'd have to watch herself.

Kelly beamed. "Thank you, Commander."

"Do I have anything that needs attention?"

"You have messages in your private terminal and Joker would like to speak to you on the bridge."

"He just wants to show off his new digs," Shepard said, nodding at her and turning away. "Thank you, Kelly."

"Let me know if you need anything, Commander." Kelly turned back to her console. "With you leading us, we can't fail."

_Let's hope._ Shepard thought.

Since Joker was making the final preps for takeoff, Shepard let him be for now, wandering through the ship, meeting crew members. She met Sargent Gardener in the mess. He acted as the ship's cook, but like Kelly, he seemed to have a variety of tasks. He was rather flattered she had come to meet him, which embarrassed her. She hadn't expected to meet so many people happy to see her on a Cerberus ship. She gathered things were usually a bit more formal with Cerberus but she liked to be personally involved with the running of her ship.

Anderson had taught her that.

She met the main engineers, Gabriella Daniels and Kenneth Donnelly, who she had no doubt were the best at their jobs, but the engineering deck just looked incomplete without a quarian standing at one of the consoles. They were an interesting pair, though. Donnelly seemed quite enthusiastic about serving under her, it was kind of flattering, really. All of this praise and awe was going to make her insufferably big headed.

"Kick the Collectors in the daddy bags," she murmured, amused, repeating Donnelly's phrase. She had to remember that one.

She made a round into the medlab...and drew up short.

Dr. Karin Chakwas turned in her chair. Her eyes widened a bit and she huffed out a breath.

"Hi, Doc..." Shepard said in a small voice.

"Commander Shepard. I watched the Normandy crumble with you on board. It's good to see you alive," Dr. Chakwas said, rising from her chair. She looked a bit older than Shepard remembered, but otherwise looked the same. Dressed in a medic's outfit, her neat cap of silvered hair cut short, her eyes and voice calm and grave.

"Likewise, Doctor," Shepard said. "I didn't...well, I still don't know who lived and who died. I'm glad you made it. Though, I never expected to see you here."

"Surprising, even to me. Yet here I am." Chakwas studied her. "The kind of trauma you endured would've changed most people, but not you, I see. Welcome back, Shepard."

Shepard wasn't so sure she wasn't changed. Part of her still felt like an automaton, especially now. A VI executing the path it had been programmed on. She almost said so, but checked herself, saying instead, "Surely the Alliance didn't ground you the way they did Joker?"

"Not exactly. After the Normandy was destroyed, we were all reassigned. I was stationed at the Mars Navel Medical Center. A very respected position, but it wasn't a starship."

Shepard nodded, understanding that perfectly. "Everything planet side is so...still."

"Too static. And boring. I've spent most of my life working on starships."

"I still wouldn't have pegged you for the Cerberus type, Doctor. Of course, I wouldn't peg Joker as the Cerberus type either..."

"We don't work for Cerberus, Shepard. We work for you...on a mission that could be crucial to the survival of the human race. I have faith that your dealings with Cerberus will be ethical. I trust you, Commander."

The woman could have no idea how much those words meant to her right now.

Chakwas was studying her with sharp eyes. "You haven't been eating."

"I have too," Shepard said, automatically defensive. "I got tossed straight into an assignment right after we escaped, I didn't have time for anything fancy."

Chakwas took a firm hold of her chin, looking over her face. "You need to eat and rest regularly in order to build your strength back up, Shepard. Ms. Lawson gave me your medical reports, you were woken up far earlier than you should have been. You have to be careful." She frowned, tracing some of the tears in her cheek with cool fingers. "And keep an eye on these."

"Yes, ma'am."

Chakwas' lips almost twitched into a smile, but her eyes remained stern. "And you'll need regular physicals until I'm certain you're fully healed. I mean it, Shepard."

Shepard nodded, looking serious. "I promise."

* * *

The topmost level of the Normandy SR2 was known as the Loft. And it was all hers.

Shepard stood at the top of the stairs leading down into her room and just stared. The bed was large and far more luxurious than the one she'd had on the old Normandy. There was a low couch all along one wall. And fish tanks set in the wall. She had damn fish tanks. Shepard tapped the glass of one idly, shaking her head, and made a circuit around the room.

"You do know how to do a bribe, you fucker," Shepard said, not without some admiration.

Her console was top of the line and she was startled to see a screen separating the office area from the rest of the room. She played with it for a few minutes, fascinated, then peeked into the bathroom. Not large, but it was well made, with her own shower. The lights clicked on as she went further in and she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror above the sink, really seeing herself for the first time.

Now she understood why Joker and Chakwas had been so shocked when they had first seen her: she looked like a goddamned corpse.

Mechanically, Shepard stripped down, standing naked and looking down at herself. She was a skeleton with skin. There was no hint of the soft tan color her skin had been before: it was deathly white and pulled taut over her bones. She could count her ribs if she ran her hand over them. Her ash blond hair was almost white, as well, and her eyes were a paler gray than they had been, like the color had been washed out. She leaned toward the mirror, fascinated and appalled, taking note of spots of red light deep within her pupils and showing through the still healing tears of her face. She ran her fingers over her ears, her nose, along the curve of her eyebrow where she'd had piercings at one point. They were all healed over now. Her fingers continued downward, along the curve of her left shoulder. On Akuze, she'd gotten grazed by the thresher maw's spitting venom. Just a few drops, but they had burned into her shoulder, festering as she struggled to survive. By the time she had been picked up, she had been feverish, her shoulder almost eaten away. They had managed to rebuild her shoulder, it was always a little weaker than the other one, but she had maintained full use of it. But it had been forever marked by a scar that spread along her neck to over her shoulder. She could still feel whorls of scar tissue there along her neck, but portions of it had been overlaid with strips of smooth skin on the shoulder.

She had plenty of new scars to make up for it. She had several long, knotted scars on her sides where the skin weave had been set. Lighter scars crisscrossed her skin everywhere. Her tattoos were gone, she noted. All four of the ones on her arms were gone, the tarot card one on her ankle- the Queen of Cups, representing her mother -was almost entirely gone, she could still see traces of inked skin here and there.

Shepard took a deep breath and slowly forced herself to turn around, glancing over her shoulder into the mirror. She was stunned to see the one on her back, her labyrinth, was still there. She peered closer. It was re-inked, the lines darker and a few of them out of place because of scars on her back, but it was intact. Someone must have redone it. She let out a shuddering sigh of relief. She had an odd twist of memory of Wilson's voice at her back and a faint prick on her skin. Had it been Wilson, of all people?

Shaking her head, Shepard got dressed again and stepped out of the bathroom. She collapsed into the chair at her desk, breathing out a soft sigh, staring at the console in front of her. She could see a faint outline of her reflection on the screen, but she'd had quite enough of looking at herself, thanks.

She turned the console on to vanish the image, scanning through the programs idly for a moment before she switched over to her message center. They had linked it up to her original address and she was startled to see the first one was from Admiral David Anderson: _On the off chance that the rumors are true, and you actually are alive, I need you to come and talk to me on the Citadel. A lot has changed in the last two years. You put us on the Council, and it's only fair that you be allowed to speak for yourself about what we've been hearing._

She was trying to decide which place she dreaded to go more: the Citadel or Omega. Lots to do, she thought, trying to drag herself out of the sink of depression. Dossiers to look at, ship to get used to, making sure her current team didn't at least want to stab her in the back at the first opportunity...

Shepard's eyes narrowed and she rose to her feet suddenly, lighting up her omni-tool. Oh, she was willing to bet...

A quick scan revealed three bugs in her room. She disabled them quite calmly, wondering how many were all around the ship. And most of them probably echoed back right to Miranda's office.

She stood in the middle of the room for a long moment, her eyes narrowed into slits, then she searched around the room until she found the communications center on the desk. She buzzed the intercom to the bridge. "Joker?"

" _Commander?"_

"As soon as she's ready, plot a course for the Citadel."

" _Aye, aye, Commander."_


	7. Old Friends and New Friends

" _No, no, no, no. Oh, my scars and whiskers, no! You swing a girl around like that and you'll both end up with broken limbs!"_

_Shepard paused and peered into the garage, one eyebrow raised. "Uh, hello?"_

" _Hey, Shepard!" Howard waved one hand at her cheerfully. He was standing amidst broken machines both Alliance and colony and their M29 Grizzly had been raised up so Howard could work on it. Two kids she recognized from the colony were in there with him and gave her startled and guilty...and slightly defiant...looks as they turned around. "Just the woman I need. C'mere for a sec, eh?" He took her by the hand and dragged her into the garage. She became aware of music playing from somewhere for the first time. "The kids are having a shindig and are a bit nervous about the dancing part. First time, you know."_

" _No, I don't know," Shepard said with fond exasperation. "I don't do shindigs, I do concerts where dancing consists of elbowing the person next to you."_

" _You have your version of human contact and the rest of us have ours, dear."_

" _The lead singer of DeadStarr cut himself on his guitar and bled all over us in the front row once, how's_ that _for contact?"_

" _Shut up and dance, woman." Howard whirled her with surprising grace. "Let me show them how it's done!"_

_She laughed and tried to keep up with him as he danced her around the floor to the music and the hoots and hollers of the other mechanics. The kids were grinning now. Howard chuckled. "And there's the secret to it, boys."_

" _Let me guess: just have fun?" Shepard said._

_Howard dipped her with a dramatic flourish. "And that's the reason she's the commander, folks. She knows her shit."_

Shepard opened her eyes as a beep from the console indicated her recent search had come up with nothing, drawing her out of her reverie. Her vision was blurred and she had to swipe at eyes that were suddenly stinging.

She had been spending a lot of time at her desk on the way to the Citadel. Miranda wasn't happy with that they were going but Shepard had calmly replied she would be able to concentrate better if she saw how things stood herself. There were also things on the Citadel she wanted to get. She doubted her apartment was still as it had been, but there were other places she had kept stuff.

She had gone over the dossiers available, raising her eyebrows at the eclectic ensemble. And lucky her, not just one, but three people on Omega to go get.

Shepard leaned back in her chair, rubbing the back of her neck. She needed to eat. She had been keeping her promise on that, and downing so many energy drinks, she was surprised she wasn't bouncing off the walls. Dr. Chakwas was cautiously optimistic she would be able to regain her full strength. There was a small fitness center belowdeck, but Shepard had enough room if she pushed this and that aside to go through her own workouts and practice with hand to hand combat moves that had been drilled into her during N training. Keeping in mind Dr. Chakwas' warnings about pushing herself too hard...at this point she could damage herself permanently...she tried to balance it out with sitting quietly.

She had also been working- subtly -on her console. It was unlikely she would be able to block everything they had planted in the systems to allow them to spy on what went on, but she could do her damn best. One of the things she needed to get on the Citadel was a proper omni-tool and the VI program she had crafted herself for it. Once she had Herman, she could guard her privacy a bit better.

She had contacted Vin Sol, the volus she used to do her business, and had been pleased to discover the account she had with him had been untouched, as well as the alias she had for some aspects of business, Nicole Daniels. Between that and what she had scraped together hacking things on the Lazarus station and the colony, she had enough money of her own she didn't have to depend on Cerberus for what she needed personally. She had no idea if the Illusive Man knew about the Daniels alias, but she wasn't going to bring it to his attention. She'd mainly used it years ago to help colonists get things they needed and couldn't get. Howard had helped her set it up.

_Howard._ Shepard closed her eyes, feeling saturated with sorrow. He'd left the Alliance after her death, had gone back out to the Traverse. He'd died almost a year ago defending a colony against slavers.

It was how he would have wanted to go out, she consoled herself. But, God, she wished he was here. She would have given anything to see him wandering the new Normandy with a cigar in one hand, dressed in one of those ridiculous brightly patterned shirts of his.

People like him and Donnelly and Anderson had done their best to defend her, but as Miranda and the Illusive Man had both warned her, the Council and the Alliance had been determined to believe the Reaper threat was over. Her reputation, which had waxed and waned like the moon even when she had been alive, was officially still as the savior of the Citadel. But with her dead, the rumors and speculations about her sanity- citing her traumatic early life and hard military career -had run rampant. At best, she was a savior, yes, but also an eccentric and a troublemaker. At worst, she was an attention seeking, crazy, deviant whore. Her obsession with these 'Reaper' creatures was attributed to anything from paranoia to ego. She could only hope this meeting with Anderson would help.

Shepard forced herself to concentrate and studied the lines of information scrolling across her console, frowning when it came up blank. She tried another search of records from another section of Citadel space, typing VAKARIAN, GARRUS into the search bar.

She found plenty on his father, but aside from some articles about Garrus' involvement with finding Saren, there was nothing.

Shepard had never worried about Tali, even before she had seen her at Freedom's Progress. Tali had always had her people to focus on and had always intended to return to the Migrant Fleet. The same went for Kaidan Alenko. She had no idea where he had been stationed, but he had always been loyal to the Alliance at the core of him and she wasn't surprised at all to know he was still with them. He'd probably been promoted and assigned somewhere his skills could be put to good use.

She'd expected Urdnot Wrex to still be on Tuchanka, and by all accounts he still was. He'd been planning to start rallying the krogan into joining together to save their race and that, too, he appeared to be doing. If anyone could pull it off, it was Wrex.

Liara had surprised her. She had expected Liara, if anything, to go back to her studies of the Protheans. Liara was a scholar at heart. Instead, she was on Illium working as an information broker. Shepard could safely say she never saw that coming. Not that she didn't think Liara was smart enough to do it. She was very good at finding out things most people couldn't have gotten close to. But the information trade required a certain ruthlessness she never would have thought Liara had. Not in million years.

The Illusive Man had told Shepard not to trust her. The irony of that was almost funny.

She'd sent a message to her anyway, but she had not heard anything back yet.

And Garrus...

He'd gone back to C-sec to keep himself occupied and help people until Spectre training started. Not long after her death, however, he had disappeared. There were several reports of him publicly arguing about the Reapers, but then he had left the Citadel and traveled from port to port before she lost track of him completely.

_Where'd you go, handsome?_ she wondered, shutting down the console and looking out over her room. She'd always thought Garrus would make a good Spectre. Something to temper and guide that hot headed passion for justice- to punish the guilty and protect people who needed it - without strangling him with rules.

The fact she knew where all the others were except him troubled her more deeply than she ever could have expected.

She rubbed her eyes, gritty from lack of sleep. It wasn't for lack of trying. The moment her head had hit the pillow, the nightmares that had plagued her sleep for as long as she could remember started up again; mad jumbles of images from the Prothean beacon and memory dragging her out of sleep soaked with sweat and panting. If it kept up, she would have to talk to Chakwas about finding something to knock her out. _If they think I'm crazy now, they ought to see me in the grip of sleep madness_.

The intercom buzzed. _"Commander?"_

"Joker."

" _We'll hit the Citadel in about an hour, just giving you a heads up. I'm planting us in one of the lower decks because, you know, Cerberus."_

"Nervous about flying a ship into territory where Cerberus has been declared a terrorist organization in a ship with a Cerberus icon branded all over it? Tsk, grow a spine, Joker."

" _Eh, it's just a matter of knowing where to go and what palms to grease. At least it's not my money."_

* * *

Zakara Ward. Shepard knew this ward better than any other. It was the most diverse of all of them. The others were dominated by asari, turians, and salarians. You not only found more humans here, you also found more of the other races like hanar, elcor and volus. This made it much more interesting, in Shepard's opinion.

She closed her eyes. The Wards were always noisy but sound seemed to be amplified now that there was so much more of it. It felt like all the voices were bouncing around in her skull. Miranda had said something about the audial implants they'd had to use to fix her hearing properly but even she wasn't sure why her hearing was so off. Maybe she should get Donnelly or Daniels to stick a screwdriver in her ear and adjust it, Shepard thought sourly.

"Commander," Jacob said quietly, nodding toward their right.

"You'll have to make him scream a little. He's not going to tell you everything just 'cause you ask."

Shepard found focusing on one voice helped a little bit. She turned her attention to the man sitting behind a desk to her right.

They hadn't had this station or the security checkpoint off the docks two years ago. Of course, she hadn't made it through without setting off alarms. She was a walking corpse.

"If you don't have the stomach, or you're worried about being reported, I can take care of it."

This charming gentleman, one Captain Bailey, was who she'd been sent to talk things over with. He was glaring at the officer leading a suspect into interrogation...which was promising to be painful for him, considering the way she kept assuring Captain Bailey she could handle it. "Yes?" Bailey spoke carelessly and then blinked at the console in front of him as she stopped in front of his desk, his brows furrowing. "I see the problem already, Commander Shepard. My console says you're," he got a good look at her and stared for a moment, "dead."

She was slowly resigning herself to earning a lot of stares until she looked a little better. "I could always be a poor imposter claiming to be me."

"We have the best screening equipment in the galaxy," Bailey said, shaking his head. "Those scanners can sample DNA from skin flakes. Hell, if you have unregistered gene mods, they can figure those out."

She hoped she didn't have any of those, but how the hell was she to know? "Your sargent out there said you could help."

"Usually, you'd have to go through the Station Security Administration to reactivate your IDs," Bailey said thoughtfully. "Then to Customs and Immigration to regain access to the Citadel itself."

Jacob groaned behind her. "That'll take all day."

Bailey nodded, smiling wryly. "And probably a stop by the treasury. 'Spending a year dead' is a popular tax dodge."

"Hey, I've never tried that to dodge taxes." Though she'd used a couple other dodges for the Daniels account. It was easy since Vin Sol didn't operate technically in Citadel space.

Bailey studied her for a moment and then took her completely by surprise. "I can see you're a busy woman. So how about I just press this button right here, and we call it done?"

"Couldn't one of us- or both of us -get into trouble for that?"

Bailey shrugged. "There's no way to fool the DNA scanners in that tunnel. You're you. Why wait in long lines and fill out a mass of useless hardcopy paperwork to get to the same place?"

Shepard, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, found herself smiling. "Why, indeed?"

"Some of us haven't forgotten what you did, Commander." She didn't think the trace of bitterness in Bailey's voice was good news for her. "The Council does everything by the book. They've had thousands of years to write it. Sometimes things need to get done without a committee vote."

_Garrus would have liked you._ "Not big on formalities, eh? I like that."

His eyes met hers briefly. "I'm with them right up until they keep people from doing their jobs."

Garrus would definitely have agreed with that. Bailey tapped something out on the console and the screen flashed. "There, I just saved you about nine days of running around."

"We all appreciate that," Jacob spoke up honestly.

Bailey nodded. "That said, you should head up to the Presidium and tell them you're still alive. The Council probably wants to talk to the one that saved their scaly asses."

"That's the impression I got. Thanks," Shepard said.

"The best thing about working C-sec is that any equipment, information, or money you need, you get."

_Unless you're trying to build a case against a rogue Spectre and the Council doesn't want to believe it._

"Anyway. Something else you need? Or can I get back to work?" Shepard hesitated, hating to keep him when he'd done her such a favor but she had a feeling honest sources of information like him were going to be few and far between. "Last time I was here you couldn't find a human captain anywhere in C-sec." She remembered seeing more and more humans in C-sec blue before she'd gotten spaced, but none of them had gotten so high in rank.

Bailey gave her that wry smile again. "C-sec took a lot of casualties when the geth boarded the Presidium. The Special Response division was hard hit. They stopped turning their noses up at human resumes. They needed bodies in uniform, and we had the most experienced bodies."

She had one of those rapid flashes of memory. The Normandy blowing Sovereign out of the air far above their heads as Saren's corpse lay sparking and spasming on the ground beneath the Council's chamber. Pieces of the Reaper spinning in apparent slowness toward the windows. She winced. She had known the casualties and the extent of the damage before she had died. She knew she had, because she remembered keeping updated on how the repairs were going. Despairing of trying to remember on her own, she just asked about it. "What about the damage from Sovereign's attack? They've got it mostly repaired, yes?"

"The Presidium was pretty shot up. Of course, they fixed that first," Bailey said. "All of the wards got hit with debris when the ship exploded. Most of the damage was superficial, and the keepers got things restored fast."

The keepers. The little critters that scurried about, fixing the Citadel and rearranging it according to some kind of logic only they were privy to. The Reapers' little green servants who the Protheans had stolen away. Such a simple little change, but it had thrown a wrench into the cogs of the Reapers' plan and sent it to a screeching halt. Everything that led up to the attack could be traced back to it. The keepers were the ones that were supposed to activate the giant mass relay the Citadel turned into and allow their masters to come through, hitting the galactic civilization right at its center. Instantly gaining control of the mass relays and all the information they needed to exterminate every race they deemed technologically advanced enough. The Prothean scientists who had survived on Ilos had managed to change something in the keepers that made it so they only responded to the Citadel itself. When Sovereign had ordered them to open the mass relay, they hadn't responded, and it had been forced to take on more primitive tools. Like Saren.

"Teyseri Ward got the worst- a big chunk hit near Dilinaga Concert Hall," Bailey continued, "They're still clearing wreckage and trying to get power restored."

She nodded slowly, trying to dredge herself out of memories. It was getting easier to do but she still was getting caught off guard. "Thank you, Captain."

He accepted the hand she stuck out, shaking it. "You need anything else, let me know."

* * *

Admiral David Anderson stood on the balcony of Councilor Udina's office, staring out over the Presidium that had been his home and workplace for the past two years. Everything was neat, orderly, set far off from the hustle and bustle of the wards.

If only the politics that ran through it were so neat and orderly, Anderson thought.

"This meeting would be more productive if Udina was to join us." Anderson glanced over his shoulder at the image of the asari councilor. All three of them were present via holo projectors set in an alcove in one wall. It reminded him eerily of the time- it seemed a lifetime ago -Councilor Udina, then an ambassador, had stood before the Council arguing about Saren Arterius' attack on the Eden Prime colony. Shepard had been there that day too.

He was glad he'd caught sight of the two figures striding over the bridge toward the embassy before he'd summoned the Council so they didn't have to see the jolt it gave him. He'd gotten word she had arrived on the Citadel a half hour or so before but part of him still hadn't believed it. His former XO and protégé.

Shepard.

"Councilor Udina isn't available." Anderson had managed to maneuver it that way. "As his top advisor, I speak with his full authority and approval." They probably knew the approval part was bullshit, but it would do for now. The idea of dealing with Shepard with Udina in the same room gave him a headache. "She'll be here any-" He cut off abruptly as he heard the door open and turned. And stared.

Arian Shepard cut a distinctive figure. She was tall for a human woman, she topped out at just under six feet, and whip thin. The sharp features of her face were a mixture of Asian and European features- she was a mixed bag of genetics like most humans -but that shock of blond hair, a rarity in this day and age, made her easy to pick out at any time.

But if he'd passed her on the street, he wouldn't have known immediately that it was Shepard. Not this ghost pale specter of a woman watching them with wary eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Council members staring too.

_Good God, Shepard, what the_ hell _happened to you?_ Anderson cleared his throat, swallowing that question. "Ah, Commander. We were just talking about you."

"Indeed." There was nothing outright disrespectful in her tone or the way her eyes swept each person in the room. It might have been better if there was. The complete lack of any expression in her face or voice was unnerving. Her gaze settled on him and her expression softened a bit, making her look more like the woman he'd known. "Hello, sir." She saluted.

"It's good to have you back, Shepard," he replied quietly.

The salarian councilor spoke up. "We've heard many rumors surrounding your unexpected return. Some of them are...unsettling."

"We called this meeting so you could explain your actions, Shepard," the asari councilor said. "We owe you that much. After all, you saved our lives in the battle against Saren and his geth."

"Saren and his geth," Shepard repeated, so quietly it was almost inaudible. She cocked her head, studying the Council for a long moment before speaking. "The Collectors are abducting human colonists out in the Terminus Systems." There was something very off about the way she was speaking. There was no urgency in her voice, no plea for belief. Her tone, her expression were...assessing. The statement was almost a challenge. "It's possible they're working for the Reapers."

Anderson felt a jolt go through him. He had read some of the reports of those abductions. And had wondered...

"The Terminus Systems are beyond our jurisdiction! Your colonists knew this when they left Council Space," the turian councilor snapped.

Anderson spoke up, even knowing it would do no good. "You're missing the point, Councilor. The Reapers are involved."

The turian snorted. "Ah, yes. Reapers." He actually made quote marks with his fingers around the word as if the disdain in his voice wasn't enough. "The immortal race of sentient starships allegedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed those claims."

The air seemed to go out of Shepard. She closed her eyes and her breath came out in a soft rush.

Anderson turned to her. "Shepard, no one else encountered the hologram on Ilos that told you the truth about the Reapers. Only you and your crew ever spoke to Sovereign. I believe you, but with out evidence from another source, the others think Saren was behind the geth attacks."

Incredibly, Shepard smiled. She didn't open her eyes. "Of course." She chuckled low in her throat and it was a terrible sound. There was genuine humor in it and the worst part was, Anderson could understand why she found it so horribly funny. She was laughing at the situation, laughing at them all, herself included. She turned away toward the balcony.

The Council heard it too, and clearly didn't appreciate it. Anderson wanted to shake her. She wasn't doing a thing to help her case or convince anyone she wasn't crazy. The silence stretched out through the office, vibrating with tension. The asari councilor finally broke it, striving for diplomacy. "We are in a difficult position, Shepard. You are working for Cerberus- an avowed enemy of the Council. This is treason, a capital offense."

Anderson bristled. "That's going too far. Shepard is a hero. If Councilor Udina were here, he wouldn't let this whitewash continue."

"It is an infernal bargain, though," Shepard agreed without turning around.

Another silence stretched out. The asari councilor finally fell back on what she was really good at. "Maybe there is a compromise. Not a public acknowledgment, given your ties, but something to show peripheral support."

Shepard turned her head to look over her shoulder at them, face expressionless.

The turian councilor sighed, looking over at the asari, then back to Shepard. "If you keep a low profile and restrict your operations to the Terminus Systems, the Council is willing to offer you reinstatement as a Spectre."

A smile with that same awful amusement curved her lips for a moment, then vanished as she considered the offer. "All right."

The asari councilor nodded. "Good luck with your investigation, Shepard. We hope for a quick resolution...and a quick end to your relationship with Cerberus."

The holograms of the Council vanished as if to punctuate that statement.

Anderson sighed and turned away. "That went better than I expected. Although, you do realize the Council's offer is symbolic. They won't actually do anything."

Shepard didn't answer, staring silently at the empty projectors.

Anderson didn't even know how to begin asking all the questions he had. Two years worth of them and they hung in the air between them. He started to speak and was interrupted as the doors opened and Udina strolled in, looking down at a datapad in his hand. "Anderson, we need to talk about..." He glanced up and stopped. "Shepard?" He said the name as if asking for confirmation it was really her. Anderson didn't blame him for that. It was a rare sight to see Councilor Udina stunned into incoherency. He managed to recover, drawing himself up. "Shepard. What are you doing here?"

"Councilor." Shepard finally looked away from the holo projectors.

"I'd heard you were alive, but I didn't expect to see you on the Citadel." His tone said quite clearly that he didn't consider seeing her a good thing. Udina and Shepard had never gotten along. The best they could manage was professional tolerance. Shepard considered Udina a good politician and pretty much worthless as anything else and Udina thought she was a PR nightmare. Which she was. No matter what her deeds, Shepard was the opposite of what Udina thought someone representing humanity should be: namely a savvy, well groomed soldier with a spotless background. Instead, she was...well, Shepard.

"I invited her here to speak with the Council. We just finished our meeting," Anderson said.

Udina had already figured that out and his glare could have scorched flesh from bone. "You went to the Council behind my back? Do the words political shit storm mean anything to you?"

"The Council reinstated my Spectre status," Shepard said dully, seemingly unmoved by Udina's tone. She moved toward the door with little more than a glance at either of them. "They're just happy I'm staying out in the Terminus Systems."

Udina didn't even bother to try and hide his relief. "Yes...I could see how that arrangement works for both sides."

"Out of sight, out of mind," Shepard said. Anderson couldn't see her expression, but the words were spoken with such blatant mockery and contempt, it was like a slap to the face. She walked out the door before Udina could respond.

Udina stared after her, his jaw tight, before turning his wrath back on Anderson. "You still had no right to do this without my knowledge. Maybe it's time the Alliance found me a new advisor."

Oh, here they went again. "And let them know your advisor arranged that deal without you?" Anderson hated politics but that didn't mean he couldn't play them when he had to. "You can say you knew all along. Or you can explain to the Alliance how you want to replace me for doing your job."

Udina's hands tightened into fists but this time, at least, Anderson had him over a barrel and they both knew it. "I'll tell the other Councilors I'm on board." He placed emphasis on the word 'other', as if to remind Anderson who actually stood on the Council now, like Anderson could ever forget.

Anderson turned away. "I want to talk to Shepard before she leaves."

"Yes. Encourage her to get to the Terminus Systems soon, Anderson. It would be best for all concerned."

Anderson gritted his teeth. Udina had been insufferable enough as an ambassador. He was even worse now as a Councilor. But he was good. He was very good at promoting humanity's interests on the Citadel and knew the game of intergalactic politics like no other human. Having seen the scope of those politics, how fragile the balance was, he could- reluctantly -see where the Council was coming from trying to move past Sovereign and Saren and talk of the Reapers. That didn't mean he agreed with it.

Shepard was standing on the platform outside the office, looking down at the street below, a small metal box in her hands. She kept turning it over and over between her fingers. The man Anderson had seen accompanying her across the bridge was standing not far from her, leaning back against the railing. He watched Anderson emerge silently. To Anderson's surprise, he pushed away from the railing and gave him a military salute, his posture absolutely perfect. Shepard glanced back. "Admiral Anderson, this is Jacob Taylor. Mr. Taylor, the admiral. I have no doubt you've heard about him."

"Plenty, Commander. Pleased to meet you, sir."

Anderson gave him a nod, taking him in with a glance. Cerberus, that much was obvious from the uniform. Younger than Shepard by a few years, he judged, but he had some seasoning, and probably with the Alliance at some point. "Would you give us a moment? I'm sure your ship is going to need help getting ready to leave," he said pointedly. Polite or not, he wasn't speaking in front of a Cerberus operative.

Taylor stiffened, catching the tone. Shepard looked over at him. "The admiral isn't comfortable speaking candidly in front of you. You don't have to wait up for me, Taylor, you might as well get the browbeating from Miranda over with. If you get a head start, you can deflect most of it on me."

Taylor's lips twitched, ever so slightly. "That's all right, Commander. I'll wait outside. I think it's best you not go around alone." His tone and the quick look he shot the admiral as he moved away was plenty retaliation for Anderson's earlier remark. The fact Anderson wasn't entirely sure Shepard would be safe traveling alone made it sting all the more.

"How have you been, sir?" Shepard said once he'd left. She had herself under some semblance of control, all bitterness and amusement gone. She just looked tired now, and a great deal older than her years.

"Working for Udina isn't how I planned to spend my twilight years," he admitted. "Sometimes I feel like I'm beating my head against a wall."

"I know the feeling."

"Knowing the truth about Sovereign is brutal. It's nightmare stuff. Can't blame others for not wanting to believe it."

"Not to worry. When the Reapers actually get here, these days will seem like a tranquil dream," Shepard said.

Anderson winced at the truth of that. "Yes. I know how important it is, so I keep trying. Fight the good fight, huh?"

"That's all you can do." Shepard looked back out over the Presidium. "So, they really believe Sovereign was a geth ship? They aren't faking that just because I'm working with Cerberus?"

"No, they aren't faking it. I wish they were."

"Didn't they examine the wreckage? They had to see how complex Sovereign was."

"There wasn't much to look at, Shepard. Pieces of it rained all over the station. It was chaos, you saw how bad it was afterward. There were who knows how many species combing the wards for their dead."

"Yes...I remember now..."

"We secured as much of it as we could, but between the keepers and a whole lot of unauthorized salvage, there's no way to account for even half that thing. Another reason they don't want to acknowledge what Sovereign was."

"The Illusive Man told me that's how it was. I didn't want to believe him."

"You've actually met up with the Illusive Man?" Somehow, the way she said it brought home the fact she was working for them now in a way it hadn't before. It had not quite seemed real, not with how dead set she had been on stopping them every chance she got. It had been one of the things that she was known for in the months after the battle for the Citadel. Hearing that she was working with them was surreal.

"In a manner of speaking."

"He must have spent a lot of time studying you to figure out how to bring you into their fold," Anderson said, unable to keep a trace of anger from his voice.

"He had two years of pulling me back together to do it, so, yes, probably."

The acknowledgment that Cerberus had healed her appeased him a little bit, but only a little. "So you put your faith in them rather than the Alliance."

"I came here hoping I wouldn't end up having to."

Anderson didn't have an answer for that. He looked at her, taking in all the differences in her appearance and demeanor. Something about her face nagged at him, something was off besides the color, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He couldn't help but wonder if they'd spent so much effort healing her if they hadn't done something to alter her to suit their needs. Cerberus was a terrorist organization and its existence was one of the reasons the Council and the other races in general regarded humanity warily. Shepard working with them was a disaster and he couldn't help but think Udina had a point. She might be implying she didn't have a choice in the matter, but Anderson found it hard to believe. She'd made her choice and there were consequences for it. He knew how delicate the balance humanity's position was here. There were several species who had been part of Citadel space for years and still hadn't earned a place in the Spectres or on the Council. The fact humanity, the youngest species of all of them, had managed both within a fraction of that time had bred a great deal of resentment. It would only take a bit of a push to set them back. And Shepard, no matter how much he wished it otherwise, could be an outright shove in that direction.

Shepard chose that moment to glance up and caught the look on his face. She flinched, and for a moment, her expression went from tired to miserable. She turned away. "I better go, sir."

Anderson didn't stop her and couldn't think of anything to say. There was too much in between them. So he just nodded.

Shepard tried to tuck the little metal box into one of her pockets and missed, sending it clanging to the ground. Anderson stooped and picked it up for her, blinking as he caught sight of the label on the side. "Spices?" He looked at her in confusion as he handed it back.

Shepard flushed and shoved it into her pocket properly this time. "For Gardener. The mess sargent. I said I'd keep an eye out for some proper spices for him since, you know, he doesn't really get a chance to go wandering himself."

She moved for the stairs, looking embarrassed, and Anderson watched her go silently.

She never failed, absolutely never failed, to baffle him.

It wasn't until much later that Anderson realized with a jolt exactly what it was about her face that had bothered him. Her face was smooth. It wasn't unusual for Shepard to take her piercings out when she was coming to meet him or the Council but even then, you could see the holes in her ears and nostril where they went. He trusted his powers of observation, but even then he double checked over the images they had of her. There were no holes in her face or ears. They had all assumed Shepard coming back meant she had been injured and obviously Cerberus had helped her heal. Seeing that was a sharp reminder that none of them had wondered exactly how hurt she had been. The thought stayed with him long after she had gone.

* * *

"'Long is the way, and hard, that out of Hell leads to Light'," Shepard murmured.

"What's that, Commander?" Jacob looked over at her.

"Milton. _Paradise Lost._ My, but I'm full of Biblical imagery lately."

Jacob just eyed her and wisely said nothing.

She gave him a bland smile and kept walking. She'd had intended to visit her family after getting a good omni-tool and recovering some of her things, but she was shying away from the idea now. She'd send her uncle a message first, that's what she would do. It would be better that way. She kept repeating that to herself over and over to hide the sick, irrational fear in the pit of her stomach that her family would turn away from her too. If that happened, she didn't know what she would do.

There had still been a part of her that hoped. A part that had been willing to just walk away from everything if only someone in the Alliance was ready to fight, keeping the truth from the public for now but still preparing. It had been a foolish, desperate hope that was guttered out now.

It was no wonder the Illusive Man hadn't been worried about her coming here to see the Council. He had shrugged it off as pointless, but he had to have already leaked her association with Cerberus to the right people. He had already known she would make one last ditch effort to avoid working with them. She had thought his stamping the Normandy SR-2 with Cerberus logos had been arrogance but it was simply another reminder of who had the will and ability to help her against the Collectors. With the side benefit of isolating her from everyone else she knew. He'd let her run out the leash because he knew he could pull it back anytime he wanted, playing her with expertise of a puppet-master. Without any doubt now, Cerberus was all she could rely on. God help them all.

" _I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite store on the Citadel!"_

She stopped, blinking slowly and turning her head to where the voice had come from. There, that shop. A human one selling touristy stuff. Jacob paused, frowning. "That doesn't even sound like you."

She agreed, apparently with her death, her name was a franchise. She tried to whip up some outrage but it just wouldn't come. Jacob looked at her. "Want to have a chat with them, Commander?"

Shepard started to say yes, then the thought: _what's the point?_ drifted through her mind. She shook her head, feeling even more tired. She had the overwhelming urge to find someplace dark and quiet and just curl up there, hoping this was all a bad dream when she woke up. Since she couldn't do that, she merely kept her eyes down. She kept thinking everyone was staring at her, judging her. It wasn't true, she told herself, people saw weird things on the Citadel all the time.

" _Commander Shepard, enter the password and receive a free gift!"_

She glared at the ad terminal as she passed it. Hell, maybe she wasn't just being neurotic.

" _Got problems with collectors? Try Kasumi's credit services."_

Shepard stopped with a jerk, looking over her shoulder at the console again, narrowing her eyes.

_Kasumi Goto. Master of stealth and infiltration, skilled hacker and information specialist, operates completely off the grid, no criminal record._

_Kasumi Goto is not the most famous thief in the galaxy - she's the best. Trained in the arts of stealth and infiltration, she has "acquired" artifacts and information from all over the galaxy and yet maintains a completely clean criminal record._

A woman's face, hooded so half of it was shrouded in darkness, appeared on the terminal as Shepard approached it. She smiled at Shepard, clearly a pretty young woman even with the top half of her face shadowed, with striking eyes and a line painted down the center of her lower lip. _"Please tell me your password, Commander Shepard."_ Now that she was actually focusing on her voice, she could hear the hint of amusement in it.

"Silence is golden." She repeated the phrase given to her in Kasumi Goto's dossier.

The woman's image smiled. _"Good to finally meet you, Commander Shepard. Kasumi Goto. I'm a fan."_

Shepard's lips twitched involuntarily into an amused smile. "Pleasure's all mine, Ms. Goto. Is this what you do in your spare time?" Where _was_ she? Obviously she was transmitting this from somewhere. Shepard shot a quick look around but couldn't pick out anything.

" _I'm the best thief in the business. Not the most famous. Need to watch my step to keep it that way. I also needed to make sure all of this was legit. And I have no doubts now. You're the real Commander Shepard."_

"Glad someone is sure about that. I keep wondering, myself."

" _There's a certain...aura about you,"_ Kasumi said. _"Like you've seen things no one else has."_

"I..well, okay, I suppose I have."

" _Even without knowing what you look like, I knew it was you."_

Shepard honestly couldn't tell if she was having her on. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jacob looking around, clearly trying to pinpoint where the thief was as well. "Has Cerberus filled you in on what we're doing?"

" _Honestly, I'm shocked they didn't come to see me sooner. My fault for being hard to find, I guess."_

"Well, welcome aboard finally then. Are you ready to go?"

" _I travel light. I've already slipped my things aboard your ship."_

"What? There's no way," Jacob said, his brows furrowing. Shepard was startled into a laugh.

Before Jacob could ask anything, Kasumi continued, _"I'm really glad you're helping me out with the heist. Can't wait to see how you look in formal wear."_

"I look awful. Putting me in heels is like putting an elephant on stilts. Wait, what are you talking about?" She gave Jacob a confused look and he shrugged helplessly, clearly as out of the loop as she was.

" _They didn't tell you? And they call me secretive."_ Kasumi shook her head on screen. _"I'm looking for my old partner's graybox. A man named Donovan Hock took it, and I'm planning to get it back."_

"What's a graybox?"

" _It's a neural implant. Illegal in most places. Stores memories, thoughts...secret codes, illicit information. This one in particular belonged to my partner, Keiji Okuda. We worked together for a long time, before Hock killed him."_

"I'm sorry. I guess that means we'll just have to get that graybox away from him, doesn't it?"

" _It'll be fun. If we're lucky, you won't even have to draw your gun."_

"Aw."

Kasumi laughed and the terminal suddenly went blank. A voice spoke from above and behind them and she and Jacob spun around to see a hooded figure standing on a platform above them. "We should probably wrap this up. You look pretty silly standing there talking to an advertisement." The woman gave her a saucy little salute. "See you on the ship, Shepard." Even as she turned and walked away, Shepard saw her form flash and spark and vanish.

They stared thoughtfully at the spot for a moment. Jacob gave her an uncertain glance and she shrugged, not bothering to hide her amusement. "The woman knows how to make an entrance."

* * *

"I'm sorry, I really must insist you give me the reason you're here or get away from the ship," Miranda said again, crossing her arms over her chest and giving the four men a cold glare. It seemed to bounce of their composed faces and rigidly standing forms. The one who seemed to be in charge merely gave a single shake of his head. "We were told to only speak to Shepard herself. Admiral's orders."

Typical Alliance, Miranda thought, exasperated. "Look..."

"Problem, Ms. Lawson?"

Miranda wasn't sure if she was annoyed or happy that Shepard arrived at that particular moment. "These men insist on speaking to you."

Shepard looked over, taking in the four soldiers, three men and one woman, and the crate they were standing around. As one, all four of them turned and saluted. Shepard looked startled by the action, but the leader was already stepping forward. "Commander Shepard. We've orders from Admiral Hackett to leave this with you. He asked that you read this first." He held out a datapad to her.

Shepard took it, reading the contents of it silently. Her expression shifted from confused to grave as she read and by the time she finished, she was nodding. She looked up and gave the leader a nod of understanding. "Bring it aboard."


	8. The Normandy's Commander

"...for a while now, and I'm taking a look back at past entries in this journal...how blind I was at the time. I came on this ship firmly believing that humanity was alone in the galaxy...Shepard brought all these aliens on board, and there's no way we could have accomplished what we did without them...I am proud to say...die for any member of this crew, regardless of what world they were born on."

Dr. Chakwas stood and listened as Shepard read what could make out from the datapad she had found in the rubble, her voice quiet. "I always knew Pressly was less rigid than he let on," Chakwas murmured.

Shepard didn't answer. She laid the datapad in a box at her feet, standing up and wrapping her coat more tightly around her. Alchera was a desolate place, icy and dead, and the cold winds clawed at her, swirling her ragged hair around her pale face.

She looked like a ghost herself, standing among the wreckage of the Normandy SR-1.

Chakwas shivered, pulling her own coat around her and looking around. This had been the CIC deck once. If they went a few feet further, they would come across Joker's chair. They hadn't been able to convince Joker to come along. He would have been able to do it physically if he was careful and stayed around the shuttle, but the truth was, he simply hadn't wanted to see the crash site.

In truth, Chakwas hadn't really wanted to see it, herself. But her sense of duty dictated she be here. To stand witness.

Shepard moved among the wreckage, looking through it carefully. More items joined the datapad in the box. She finally circled back to Chakwas and made a motion with her head. "I'm going to circle around the edge of the area."

The doctor nodded. "I think I'll stay here."

Shepard hesitated, a look passing across her face that reminded Chakwas very much of the woman she'd been two years ago. "There's no life signs or mechanical ones, but if anything happens..."

"I've got your comm, Commander," Chakwas said, both irritated and touched she felt the need to look after her.

Shepard hesitated for a second longer, then she nodded and moved away, circling around the frozen remains of the Mako. Chakwas saw her head turn to look at it even as she walked, didn't doubt for a second she stopped to study it once she was around the other side. That Mako was as much a participant in their adventures as the people who had ridden in it.

The doctor moved quietly through the ruins, hearing only the wind as it whistled through twisted metal and broken rock. Once in a while, she came across some memento: a dogtag, a piece of jewelry or the remains of an electronic piece, and gathered it up to be added to the box.

It wasn't until she made her second round from the shuttle, exploring smaller areas she had overlooked, that her foot hit something half buried in the snow. She stooped to pick it up and felt an odd stutter in her chest. It was a helmet, horribly burnt, but recognizable. She knew who it belonged to even before she brushed aside ash and snow to reveal the N7 logo branded on it.

* * *

Counting Ashley Williams and Navigator Pressly, there had been twenty two souls lost with the Normandy SR-1. Twenty three, if you counted Shepard, but as she was walking among these ruins and none of the others could, she didn't deserve to be held up in honor along with the rest.

The flashes of memory came slower than they had been lately. Garrus and Howard working on the Mako. Ash passed out on the floor after Wrex had dared her to try ryncol. Kaidan in the copilot's seat beside Joker's with Nihlus- the Spectre who had come to evaluate her on that fateful shakedown run to Eden Prime -standing behind them. She saw faces and could put a name to each one even without the list. Marcus Grieco, Amina Waaberi, Hector Emerson...the list of the lost, added onto the names scrawled in her memory. Addison Chase, who was a month away from getting married when the Normandy went down; Raymond Tanaka, who had a sweet tooth to do a three year old proud and kept a hidden stash of real chocolate; Alexi Dubyansky, one of the engineers. Who'd, she was pretty sure, had himself a crush on Tali.

Like Chakwas, she kept an eye out for anything that could be sent back to the families who hadn't been able to bury the bodies of their loved ones.

Memories, memories, so wrapped up in who she had been and who she was now, it had consumed her.

All these dead from her past and the dying now here in the present. The colonists. If they were dying. Who knew what the Collectors were doing to them? She closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh, her breath drifting white up into the air.

Anderson's words drifted through her mind from so long ago, right before she'd headed out to hunt Saren down, standing in front of the Normandy and answering her question about why he'd chosen her, of all people, seemingly the worst person to be XO of the Alliances' newest ship. _"You laid your life on the line once to save children that weren't from any of the colonies...who weren't even human. I say the same thing then as I said when I was considering you; if you were willing to do that, what would you be willing to do to save your crew? To save the galaxy itself?"_

_Anything._

That word had gone unspoken between them but it had hovered in the air. At the time, it had been easy to think. Now, she was starting to understand the weight of that one word. The colonists. She had the means to help them. The means to maybe figure out what exactly the Reapers were doing, if she was willing to give up her pride. Work fully with an organization she continued to despise and certainly didn't believe in. How much was it worth to save a few lives?

_Anything._

She caught a glimpse of something in the snow and bent to dig it free. Her breath hitched in her chest. It was a polished stone chess-piece, burnt a little, but still recognizable. Howard, who had not died on the Normandy but still haunted her as much as if he had, had owned a prized chess board of natural wood. They would sit and play with two boards at once, she and Howard. She'd never beat him, but the fun was in the game. She ran her thumb over the scarred, pitted stone piece.. The black queen.

She had circled around and come to the hull. The name Normandy was visible even through the ice piled up around it. She was still standing there when she heard Dr. Chakwas come up behind her. "'It little profits that an idle king by this still hearth, among these barren crags, matched with an aged wife, I mete and dole unequal laws unto a savage race, that hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.'"

"Ashley quoted some of that poem to me too, a couple of times," Chakwas said. "She had a lovely voice for it."

"Her father took a recording of her reciting it for him every time he sailed out," Shepard recalled.

She turned to look at the doctor, standing with a platform hovering beside her. Shepard looked at the monument set on the platform. She was already nodding. The monument, with the hull set behind it...yes, that would do for visitors if and when they actually came to see this place. She met Chakwas' eyes. "Here?"

The doctor nodded. "Here."

* * *

A half hour later they were on the shuttle, heading back. Shepard was holding her burnt out helmet in her lap, looking down at it. The doctor leaned back in her seat as they approached the ship and frowned suddenly as she remembered something. "Serrice Ice Brandy."

Shepard looked over at her questioningly.

"I had a bottle of it on the Normandy. Was saving it for a special occasion. I wonder if they even make it anymore, I haven't seen any."

Shepard gave her a bland look that didn't hide the mischievous sparkle in her eye. "Shall we go back and see if we can find it?"

"Only if _you_ promise to test drink it beforehand, Commander."

Shepard smirked, counting down as they docked. Chakwas watched her out of the corner of her eye. Nothing about her had changed, but she seemed to have settled in some way. She had the same look she'd had when she was focused on finding Saren. She hid a smile and felt some of the worry that had been twisted up in the back of her own mind loosen a bit. There was always the question: had they _really_ gotten her back? For the first time, she was certain.

Commander Shepard stepped onto the Normandy SR-2, and Chakwas followed.

* * *

Admiral Hackett sat at his desk, studying the contents of the box resting on it, sifting through the items within. Shepard had labeled as many things as she could recognize. Navigator Charles Pressly's datapad, Addison Chase's engagement ring, Orden Laflamme's dog tags, debris that was all that was left of so many lives. Hopefully, it would be enough to lay some spirits and old hurts to rest. She'd also included a picture of the monument where she'd placed it. He studied it for a moment. That was a good choice, he decided, approving of the placement. He was pleased she'd gone down to do it so quickly, had half expected her to refuse. No one was quite certain what to expect of Shepard anymore.

The Admiral turned back to his console, studying the message there.

_From: Major Caleb Antella_

_To: Admiral Steven Hacket_

_Subject: Taking Action on Commander Shepard's Return_

_Sir,_

_We've confirmed sightings of Commander Shepard, and that the Commander is now working for the terrorist organization Cerberus. Several Alliance officials have let it be known that they consider it crucial that we interrogate humanity's first Spectre on her apparent desertion of the Alliance and the Citadel. If we bring Shepard in now, we can gather an account of the Commander's past two years without being pressured by the galactic media to leak potentially sensitive data. In light of this, I am officially requesting that you rescind your orders against Alliance contact with Shepard._

_Rest assured our department is dedicated to the Commander's safety. Provided that Shepard is cooperative in furnishing us with a detailed report of her previous whereabouts and current work for Cerberus, we anticipate releasing her from Alliance Custody no later than five to seven months from acquisition._

_Respectfully awaiting your reply,_

_Major Antella_

_Department of Internal Naval Affairs_

Hackett tapped his fingers against the desk and finally replied to it, short and to the point:

_Major Antella:_

_Request denied._

_Hackett_

* * *

The winds of Alchera continued to whistle through the wreckage of the Normandy. What little light passed through the grey sky seemed to illuminate the statue of bronze placed before the hull, a graceful arch curving up toward the sky, topped by a small figurine fashioned to look like the Normandy itself. Honoring the people that had died there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shepard is quoting (via Ashley) Alfred, Lord Tennyson's 'Ulysses'.


	9. Omega's Hero

_Her door was open. It reminded him of how she always kept her office door open on the Normandy. He wasn't quite sure he liked it here and now, it made him jumpy, probably because she was injured._

_Shepard was stretched out on her couch, wearing a long dress that left her shoulders and arms bare and was such a bizarre mix of patterns and colors he was afraid it would give him a headache if he looked at it too long. The metal cast clamped around her arm and the bandage around her head seemed even more grim by comparison. The dress also left the scar on her neck and shoulder completely exposed for probably the first time since he'd known her. A tablet was balanced on one knee, the stylus dangling from the fingers of her free hand. She looked around as he stepped in and smiled. "Hey, Garrus."_

_He waved to tell her to stay put when she started to rise and she pointed at the collection of bottles on the counter. She'd taken to having a bottle or two of dextro based liquor for him and Tali there and he spotted a bottle of Palaven brandy amongst them. "There's water in the fridge too," she said, looking back at the screen on the wall._

_He grabbed a bottle of water and walked into the main room, following her gaze to the screen. And stared, trying to make out exactly what the hell he was looking at. "That's a...piano, right?"_

" _Uh huh."_

" _It's a musical instrument."_

" _That it is."_

" _It doesn't have a mouth. Or a digestive system. It's an inanimate object."_

" _In general, yes."_

" _They don't eat people."_

" _It's an evil piano."_

_He gave her a sharp look, taking in the way she was intently studying the screen and the underlaying laughter in her tone. "You're making fun of me," he accused._

" _Me?" She turned her head to look at him, grinning._

_He shook his head, more amused than anything. "If you watch vids made up of nothing but chaotic violence, it's no wonder you're crazy."_

" _You shush, or I'll put on the alien invasion one where the aliens can't get through wooden doors and are defeated by water."_

_He looked at the bottle in his hand and Shepard laughed. "I have a couple volumes of Asari Confessions, want me to put that on?"_

" _Shepard." His voice dropped to a growl, his mandibles drawing tight against his jaw in embarrassment. He couldn't help it. Even though he wasn't on the Normandy anymore, he still saw her as a commanding officer. True, Shepard had never been big on formalities but that kind of casual teasing that seemed to come as naturally to her as breathing still had the power to fluster him. Which she knew all too well, damn her._

_For his sake, she stopped the strange movie and changed it over to the news channel, which was running a vid of Donnel Udina's speech accepting the role of the human Councilor. "Ugh."_

" _I hear that was the Council's reaction too," Garrus commented._

" _Yeah, and they can't switch him off." Shepard flipped through channels idly until she reached a music one. Vaenia's newest video played across the screen, all soothing harmonics and shifting colors._

_Shepard looked over at him. "I keep seeing vid updates about repairs and shifting through the rubble."_

_Garrus winced. "We're just now starting to get an idea of what was damaged and getting missing people...or bodies...back to their families."_

_Shepard set the stylus down and reached over, laying a hand on his arm. "It's taking its toll on you."_

" _It's hard," he agreed, seeing no reason to hide it. The death toll from the battle taking out the geth and bringing Sovereign down had been bad enough even before they had started sorting through the Citadel. Digging out the bodies on the Citadel and dealing with frantic people searching for their loved ones had fallen to C-sec while the Council and diplomats tried to deal with the fear and anger of the rest of the galaxy, assuring everyone that the threat had passed._

_Shepard leaned back. "I wish I could help. I've been helping unscramble some of the tech in the Presidium, but..." She glared at the cast on her arm. She'd taken a bad hit when the pieces of Sovereign had crashed into the Presidium. It hadn't helped that Saren- what was left of him -had been slamming her around a few minutes beforehand. The fracture in her arm was easily repaired, but she had also taken several blows to the head, which was what had put her out of commission for the past couple weeks. "The Normandy is almost repaired, this," she tapped the cast, "comes off next week and they're pretty sure my brain isn't going to leak out of my ears. But we already have orders to ship out once ship and crew are mended."_

" _So soon?" He was surprised. The Alliance had been flaunting Shepard as a symbol every chance they got, he was certain Udina would want to keep her around for a while now that he was Councilor._

" _Yeah. There's this formal something or other I gotta go to, then we're off."_

_The sour note in her voice made him chuckle. "Couldn't squirm out of it, huh?" Shepard was infamous for dodging formal gatherings of any kind._

" _They got Anderson to make me promise."_

" _Ah."_

" _I didn't promise how long I'd stay though."_

" _You'd think they would know better than to give you any opening like that."_

_She nudged him. "The Council wants us to track down some of the geth and the last of Saren's followers. There's a couple of Cerberus outposts we missed along the way."_

" _Aren't most of them dead? That push toward the Citadel was pretty much everything Saren- or Sovereign rather -had."_

" _That's what I told them too, but they still want to make sure." She looked away, her brow furrowing. "They don't like talking about Sovereign."_

 _Garrus' gaze was drawn, involuntarily, toward the wall where she had several drawings of her vision tacked up. A sharp reminder that Sovereign had been only_ one _Reaper. "Well, everyone is focused on pulling the Citadel back together at the moment."_

" _I guess."_

" _Everyone wants things to go back to normal," he said quietly. "I wonder if that's possible. I keep looking around and wondering how anything can be like it was before."_

" _I know."_

" _There's a part of me that would like to get away from it, just turn away and focus on geth or something far away from here."_

_Shepard turned her head to meet his gaze. "You have a standing invitation on any ship or squad I'm in command of, Garrus. You know that."_

_He did. And it made everything somehow more bearable to know that. "But I couldn't live with myself if I just walked away. Plus, they're starting to get an idea of when they're going to start Spectre special training again."_

_Shepard smiled at him. "Good. You'll make a better Spectre than I could ever be, Garrus."_

_He scoffed. "You're the first human Spectre whose first assignment culminated in saving the galaxy, Shepard. Kind of hard to beat."_

" _Well, Sovereign has a whole bunch of friends on the way. That'll give you a few opportunities."_

_She said it lightly, but it was still a sobering thought. "I haven't forgotten, Shepard. It's one of the reasons I want to get started. One more Spectre can't hurt in that fight, can it?"_

" _One more Spectre, my ass. You're gonna be_ the _Spectre and the Reapers will flee back into the darkness, squealing."_

_That image had him laughing. "You hardly need me to do that, Shepard."_

" _Hey." She nudged him again. "There's no Shepard without Vakarian, eh? So you better step up to that platform and receive Spectre status soon."_

Garrus studied the silvery oval against his palm, murmuring those words to himself, the pounding music of Afterlife just a thrum in the background.

 _No Shepard without Vakarian._ At the time, those words had produced an odd twist of warmth in the pit of him. Now they were a cruel mockery. Now there was no Shepard at all. Only traces of her. Even here, on Omega. He hadn't heard her name much, but the name Benjamin Creed had come up once in a while. Her father.

He'd known Shepard hated Omega because she had told him so, but he'd assumed it was simply because it was a cesspool of slavers and people exploiting the weak. Two things that Shepard _highly_ disapproved of.

He closed his hand around the St. Jude medal. Not for the first time, he wondered what she would have thought of all he'd done here. He liked to think she would be proud, although she probably would have cautioned him about reaching too far. _You can't save everyone, you just do the best you can from situation to situation,_ she'd said to him once. It was one of the things he actively disagreed with her on. Shepard had a tendency to think very widely. It came, he guessed, from having to save the galaxy as a whole. Looking at it that way, he could see why she didn't think you could focus on saving everybody.

But if you narrowed things down...say to purging one place, like Omega...

That thought brought him back to the reason he'd been brooding in the first place and the questions he still didn't have answers for. He growled softly.

"You keep staring at that thing and someone is going to ask you if you want confession to ease your troubled soul," Butler said, easing onto the stool next to him.

"Would they want to hear it, though, I wonder?" Garrus said sardonically.

"Probably not." Butler waited until he had a drink in his hand before speaking again. "You can't blame them, Garrus. For wanting a life beyond the fighting."

Garrus stared ahead. Nothing that they did was for the money, but funds had started building up. It had sent a thrill of excitement through him when he'd started taking notice of it. More money, more ways to get to areas that were thought to be impenetrable. They could hit the people at the top where they thought they were safest. He'd already proven that. He'd almost managed to kill Tarak, the leader of the Blue Suns, in his own home because he'd had the proper resources.

But while he'd never looked beyond the battle, some of the others had. They spoke of settling down, content to keep at least one small corner of Omega safe and hope influence spread from there. Butler had been a security consultant before he'd joined up, so he understood about being hamstrung by rules. He also had a wife and a child, so he understood having a life outside taking down Omega's criminals. Fighting for reasons other than because it was the right thing to do. Fighting injustice had always been enough for Garrus in and of itself. It was hard for him to understand not wanting to do it. "We could hit the gangs so hard they'll never recover," he finally said, his voice quiet. "Not just inconvenience them, Butler. Cripple them."

Coming from anyone else, that would have been idiocy. The gangs were reality on Omega. There were no police, no crime fighters, nothing except the ever shifting power games and rivalries between smaller gangs, and above them the major ones: the Blue Suns, the Blood Pack, and Eclipse. And above them all was the ever present, unwavering figure of Aria T'Loak. Everyone else just had to make do with what they could.

That had been true of Omega for as long as James Butler had known it. Then Garrus had shown up out of nowhere and just sort of casually started plowing his way through that set power structure. If he saw someone getting robbed, or a woman getting molested, or a kid getting shaken down, or someone getting harassed just for the sport of it, he stopped it. And stopped it _cold_ ; Garrus was one of the best fighters Butler had ever met and he was _the_ best shot with any gun you put in his hands. It didn't matter how well connected the one doing it was, the man who soon became known to anyone outside the squad as Archangel didn't give a damn. That ruthless idealism was met by the gangs and thugs of Omega first with condescension, then indignation, then rage...and fear. If he'd just been a good fighter, it would not have been so big a deal, but he was a leader as well and he had a talent for messing with the gangs _without_ messing with Aria, which took considerable talent. First Sidonis had joined him, and one by one, the rest of them had started joining up too. Because Garrus didn't bother with lecturing or speeches about how Omega needed to be cleaned up. He just did it.

It was kind of hard to tell a man something was impossible when he was doing it.

He'd learned that particular method from Shepard, he'd said on one of the rare occasions he would speak of her. It had taken them a while after learning his real name to realize he was the turian often seen on the vids with that long legged, tattoo bedecked vixen that had taken the galaxy by storm. Of course they were all curious about that particular adventure...he'd actually _been_ there, after all. But getting him to talk about Shepard directly was a hard thing, other than mentioning her abilities as a commanding officer.

"If he really expects us to believe he only saw her as a commanding officer, the only one he's fooling is himself," Nalah, his wife, had commented once.

With all that in mind, Butler found it hard to say the placating words that he'd had saved up. Sure, settling down, living well, was a good thing to focus on, but wasn't it worth the risk to save a few more lives, make things better for the people who needed it? The people of Omega had never truly had someone to champion them before and Butler had the distinct impression that it wasn't just the interrupted shipments and the loss of credits that was genuinely scaring the gangs; it was the fact that people were sitting up and paying attention. If a newcomer could come out of nowhere and throw a wrench in the rusted machine that had run Omega for so long, why not them?

Even if they wanted to stop fighting, it was hard to put that into words in the face of Garrus' determination. It was one of the things that had drawn them all to him in the first place.

Butler swirled the whiskey in his glass around. "Eh. I guess things will just work out as they will."

Garrus looked at him, smiling for the first time. "Now you sound like Shepard."

Butler gave him a sly smile. "Considering how obsessive you are about her, I'll take that as a compliment."

Garrus muttered something incoherent. Butler and Sidonis especially enjoyed embarrassing him by making innuendos about his relationship with Shepard. Which was kind of funny, considering how much enjoyment Shepard herself had gotten out of poking fun at him. A fitting tribute to her memory, he thought with sour amusement at himself.

 _Nice, since_ you _haven't made any real tribute to her memory,_ a sly voice in his head said. _It will be nice for Omega to be all cleaned up and shiny right in time for the Reapers to come and pluck it up. Right, Vakarian? Much easier to do that than actually work against them._

His hand tightened around Shepard's medal again. Contrary to popular belief, he actually thought about the Reapers all the time. The trouble was no one else wanted to. He wanted to do something, of course he did, but he didn't know what to _do_.

He'd tried. After Liara disappeared from Citadel Space, he'd tried on his own. He'd researched into Saren's activities, tried to learn how and where he had found Sovereign, anything, anything at all that would have given him some kind of thread to follow. It was a dead end. Vigil, the VI on Ilos that had told them about the Reapers, was gone, its power run out. Saren was gone. Shepard was gone. The path to figuring out what to do about the Reapers was one he couldn't even find, much less navigate.

_Except the Collectors._

He admitted they had been at the back of his mind ever since Weaver had mentioned hearing rumors about them attacking human colonies. There was nothing logical to connect the Reapers to the Collectors. Just that they were both creepy species that were supposedly myths who crawled out of dark places and did horrible things to people.

 _Even if they have something to do with the Reapers, what could you do about it, Vakarian?_ Battling crime on Omega was one thing, going after one of the most mysterious species in the galaxy was another thing entirely.

He looked down at Shepard's medal again. Still...

"You know what's wrong with Sidonis lately? He's brooding all the time." Butler was asking as Garrus was drawn out of his own thoughts.

An annoyed female voice behind them had him turning his head to watch a fat human male, swaying and obviously drunk, harassing one of the asari waitresses. She was striding toward Garrus and Butler in attempt to get away from him, her haughty annoyance not quite shielding the genuine nervousness in her eyes. He didn't blame her, the look on the man's face was mean and vicious and it would go badly for her if he managed to get her somewhere alone. "Maybe he's just tired of fighting, like some of the others."

"He's about as likely to get tired of that as you are," Butler snorted.

"So maybe he's worried we'll run out of stuff to fight." Garrus tossed him a grin. "I worry about that sometimes too, you know." The asari passed him, the fat man in leering pursuit, so focused on her lithe form, he didn't notice Garrus sticking a foot out. The man tripped over it and tumbled to the floor with a crash, making Butler and several other patrons laugh derisively and the asari send Garrus a sultry smile of thanks as she slipped away.

The man struggled to his feet, snarling drunkenly, pawing at his belt, probably for a knife. He didn't get a chance to draw it, whatever it was, due to the short armed jab that smashed his nose back against his face and sent him stumbling backwards again. Garrus hurried him along his backward fall with a sharp kick in the groin to discourage him from going after any other woman tonight and turned back to the bar as the man lay sprawled on the floor.

Butler shook his head. "That was like watching a blind pyjak try to take on a varren. What was that you said about running out of things to fight?"

Garrus simply knocked the rest of his drink back, tucking the St. Jude medal safely away. Not while Omega existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Garrus's thoughts in this chapter were inspired by his Homeworlds comic, which you should definitely check out, as it is awesome.


	10. Perfection

Miranda sat in her office, staring at her screen as she tried to write up her report to The Illusive Man. For the third time, she brought up an image from the port cargo hold cameras, staring at the tube there. She was distracted, and not just because she didn't exactly have good news. They had a krogan on board now, but not the one they were looking for. Oh, and Shepard was swinging back and forth between impressive and bloody terrifying.

Shepard had a variety of perfectly logical reasons for wanting to go to Korlus first. It was a shorter jaunt from their current position than Omega, so they might as well go there along the way, and while Mordin Solus was a brilliant scientist, Okeer had actually had contact with the Collectors. Although in the end, he had claimed he didn't know anything about the colony abductions.

All perfectly legitimate points and Miranda wasn't buying any of them. Not for the first time, she cursed the Illusive Man for not allowing her to implant something into Shepard's brain that would allow them to have at least a modicum of control over her behavior and keep her on track for their mission.

At first, she would have chalked Shepard choosing to go for the krogan over suggestions otherwise up to simple defiance of her and the Illusive Man. But after studying how Shepard avoided talking about the recruitments in that particular area, she now thought it might be much more simple than that.

Shepard was afraid of Omega.

And why was that? Miranda couldn't help but wonder. Psychology was not her best point, but Shepard's avoidance of Omega clearly traced back to the blank period between the destruction of Mindoir and when she'd appeared on Earth and murdered two members of a slaving ring before turning herself in. So much of what Shepard was traced back to that period, and there was little to no information on her activities during that time. If they were taking her back into an area that had such an adverse effect on her, Miranda would have felt much better knowing why that was. The better to observe and take action to protect their investment. It was possible the Illusive Man knew more than he had told her, in which case Miranda was even more frustrated. They still had no idea what the long term effects of waking her up so early would be. Physically, she was progressing well, but Miranda was having serious doubts about her mental capabilities.

The asari they'd come across on the way to Okeer's lab, for example. Thanoptis. She knew the name from reports on Saren's attempt to cure the genophage and create a krogan army. She'd spoken to Shepard with familiarity, defending her presence there by stating she wasn't wasting the second chance Shepard had given her. She was designing mental imprinting for Okeer's tank bred krogan. She'd surprised them by informing them Okeer wasn't, in fact, trying to find a cure for the genophage but what he was doing, she wasn't sure. Then she had moved toward the door, obviously well aware of how Shepard worked and having no intention of sticking around. Shepard had not tried to stop her, watching her walk to the door, her head cocked on one side almost quizzically.

Then she'd shot her in the back of the head.

Miranda had, unfortunately, been at just the right angle to see the asari's face explode outward before she hit the ground. Jacob had yelled in shock and even Kasumi had jumped, startled. Shepard had turned away from the asari's body and their incredulous stares to continue on to the lab, appearing completely unperturbed and apparently not feeling the need to explain why she'd just gunned down a defenseless woman in cold blood.

She should have known. Shepard had been almost single-mindedly focused on the mission since they'd left the old Normandy's crash site, even if she wasn't immediately going in the direction Miranda thought the most logical. Kasumi Goto was a good influence over her, they responded well to each other. Too well, in fact, as they shared a sense of humor Miranda found annoying. Still, she thought seeing Shepard laughing with honest humor was a good sign.

She should have known better than to assume Shepard's emotions had evened out completely. She'd been fine when they arrived at the Blue Suns base Okeer had been hiding in, making fun of the hysterical commands coming over the loudspeakers from the Blue Suns commander, leading the way up to the lab and taking down enemies with all the skill that they could have hoped for. It was only a matter of time before one of the quirks manifested itself, like her hearing going strange as it had on the Citadel and on and off since Alchera.

But even if she'd been expecting it, gunning Thanoptis down that way was a move was so out of character for Shepard, it was alarming. But Miranda had not had time to try and question her, because Okeer had been waiting for them.

Miranda looked at the tube in the cargo hold again.

She couldn't count the number of krogan rejects from Okeer's lab that they had taken out on their way to disable the Blue Suns and take out Commander Jedore; the price demanded by the krogan scientist for his cooperation. Any other day, this would not have bothered Miranda. Getting that idiotic bitch to stop her babbling over the loudspeakers would have been worth killing a hundred krogan, in her estimation. Okeer had been playing Jedore and the Blue Suns. Oh, he'd been giving them a krogan army: bred in tanks in his lab like Saren's army had been, given rudimentary education via Thanoptis's learning programs, and sent off to be fodder for the Blue Suns. But that hadn't been his goal, nor, as the asari had said, was curing the genophage. No, those tank bred krogan had been sacrificed in the name of Okeer's true goal, which now rested in that tube in the cargo hold.

Perfection. How many krogan had he created? Hundreds? Thousands? And of all of them, this was the only one he thought had any value. Centuries of browbeating his people and selling them out to the Collectors until the krogan on Tuchanka couldn't stomach it anymore and sent him away. Centuries of perfecting his methods and research all for this one single krogan as his legacy. This one bred from the genes up and educated before it even woke to be perfect, to revitalize the krogan race.

Miranda glanced at the screen again and dropped her gaze to her hands. They were beautiful hands, slim and capable with long, tapered fingers. They did the work of a scientist with the grace of an artist. The perfect hands to carry out the workings of an extraordinary mind.

 _I already created you with the tools for perfection,_ a voice whispered from her memories. _You have_ every _advantage. You have no excuse not to make use of them._

Would this krogan be everything Okeer worked for? They had no way of knowing until Shepard decided whether or not she was going to wake him up. Was he this perfect warrior? Her own little hands could shoot a mech's head off from 100 yards, her human mind could crush it with her biotics. She was smarter, more accomplished, healed faster, would probably live longer. Would this perfect krogan be capable of the same?

And standing between them was Miranda's greatest accomplishment: a woman she had literally brought back from the dead. A woman born from a drug addict and a criminal, whose biotic abilities and hell, even her training, had come from pure circumstance...who the Illusive Man had poured billions of credits into bringing back.

Scowling, Miranda shook herself away from her thoughts, pushing back and typing up a terse, to the point report for her boss. Okeer dead, the Blue Suns scattered, they were waiting for Shepard to decide on the creature's fate, and most likely were headed to Omega next. She added some choice words on Shepard's visible reluctance to go there, backed by Kelly's observations, and sent it through, stretching to get the kinks out of her neck.

She was about to get up when a soft alarm she'd asked EDI to give her went off and she looked at the port cargo hold screen again. She started swearing under her breath. "Dammit, Shepard."

* * *

So many of her friendships started out like this.

Shepard had a second to reflect on this as she recovered from the initial shock of watching the krogan in the tube stumble to the floor to being slammed up against the wall like a rag doll with an arm across her throat a second later. Gray eyes started into pale blue...she'd never seen blue eyes on a krogan.

"Human. Female," Okeer's perfect tank baby rumbled at her. "Before you die, I need a name."

 _When you're up close and personal with one of us, Shepard, you go for the head or one of the hearts. Taking out one heart won't kill, but it'll slow him down._ Wrex's voice echoed through her head as she cocked the pistol in her hand and shifted it so the muzzle was aimed at a spot on the krogan's chest, just beneath his arm. And hoped, for Wrex and his people's sake, that she didn't have to use it.

"Shepard. Commander Shepard," she managed to choke out.

"Not your name. Mine," the krogan said with a hint of impatience. "I am trained. I know things, but the tank...Okeer couldn't implant connection. His words are hollow." There was a strange flicker in his eyes that Shepard recognized all too well. "Warlord, legacy, grunt. "Grunt" was among the last. It has no meaning. It'll do."

Shepard felt hysterical laughter bubble up through her and bit it back, wondering what Okeer would have thought of that. The krogan focused on her once more. "I am Grunt. If you are worthy of your command, prove your strength and try to destroy me."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, striving for intimidation. Not easy to do when your breath was whistling out of your throat. "You want me to kill you?" Well, try to, but there was no reason to let him know that.

Grunt narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Want? I do what I am meant to- fight and reveal the strongest. Nothing in the tank ever asked what I want." He shook his head. "I feel nothing for Okeer's clan or his enemies. That imprint failed. He has failed. Without a reason that is mine, one fight is as good as any other. Might as well start with you."

Shepard bared her teeth in a grin, which clearly startled the young krogan. "Can't argue with that logic. Nice and simple and we'll all go out in a blaze of glorious pointlessness. Okeer would turn over in his grave if anyone bothered to bury him."

"Okeer is just a voice in the tank. If his imprints are true, then he created something stronger than him. So he's not worthy of me."

 _I can't believe Okeer didn't see that one coming,_ Shepard thought.

"And if his hatreds aren't strong enough to compel me, they've failed, too," Grunt continued. "I feel nothing. I have no connection."

Shepard locked eyes with him again. "Killing with a purpose always trumps pointless killing, in my experience." Or, at least, it had once. "I have a good ship and a strong crew...strong clan. You'd make it stronger."

The krogan mulled this over for a moment. "If you're weak and choose weak enemies, I'll have to kill you."

"Naturally. Although don't worry about the weak enemies, trust me on that."

The krogan considered her words again. "Hmph. That's...acceptable. I'll fight for you."

"Good." Shepard deliberately glanced down to draw his attention to the pistol pressed against his armor.

Now it was Grunt's turn to grin as he released her and stepped back. "Ha! Offer one hand, but arm the other. Wise, Shepard."

"Learned it from a krogan." Good old Wrex, bless his violent, cantankerous heart. She'd learned more about the krogan in a few months with him than she had in years.

"If I find a clan, if I find what I...I want, I will be honored to eventually pit them against you," Grunt said.

Shepard nodded, taking that for the compliment it was.

Grunt seemed content to settle in the cargo hold, climbing back into his tank to rest as Shepard left. Despite her aching throat, she was well pleased. The thought of working with Okeer had not been one she was looking forward to. She was ready to turn her back on the Illusive Man before she'd turn her back on him, which was a sobering thought.

Now Grunt, on the other hand...

Grunt was definitely a wild card at the moment but hot _damn_ if he couldn't be one hell of an asset. It was just a matter of making sure he killed the right people and learned when was the right time to do it.

Miranda was waiting for her, her expression one of cold disapproval. Before she could speak, Kasumi appeared out of nowhere, shutting down the cloaking device that hid her. "Well, that was interesting..."

Miranda blinked, clearly surprised she hadn't realized Kasumi was there. The thief truly was amazing, the only reason Shepard wasn't surprised was because Kasumi had told her she was keeping an eye on her before she'd gone in to wake Grunt. "Well, we've got the krogan equivalent of a hormone crazed teenager on the ship, so that's one word to describe it."

"This place gets more and more interesting every day," Kasumi said cheerfully.

Shepard returned her attention to Miranda, still walking. She really didn't want to talk to the Cerberus operative about...anything, at the moment, really. She resorted to an overwhelming pre-emptive strike, speaking calmly: "I can't think of a better place to test him out than Omega, don't you agree?"

Miranda looked at her, an odd, almost mocking gleam in her eyes, giving Shepard the impression she knew exactly what she was up to. "Whatever you think best. Commander."

"We can pick up this merc the Illusive Man was all fired up about, and the Professor and the vigilante while we're at it."

"That Archangel character sounds the most interesting out of the lot, honestly," Kasumi commented. Miranda threw her a sharp look, eyes narrowed, then glared at Shepard, who shrugged. She had not given Kasumi access to the dossiers for the people they were recruiting but she wasn't surprised Kasumi had a hold of them. She guessed Miranda still had not learned she would have to resign herself to Kasumi pretty much getting anything in the ship's databases that struck her fancy because beyond EDI, Shepard was pretty sure no one could stop her. That's what you got for hiring a master thief, she supposed. Although granted, Kasumi had her own particular brand of ethics, a distinct sense of right and wrong even if didn't align itself with the law's.

"Too bad you couldn't find out more about him," Kasumi continued. "I mean, a guy who shows up on Omega and starts attacking the gangs? And _winning_?"

"Such a person would undoubtably need to keep his anonymity," Miranda said stiffly. "That's why he's one of the _few_ people who we don't have a proper background on."

"You couldn't find Garrus, either," Shepard reminded her, turning toward the elevator. "Though that doesn't really surprise me. Stubborn, contrary, turian bastard."

Kasumi started to laugh. "Awww, that's so cute, Shep."

Shepard paused, turning to look at her. Miranda shook her head and strode away, looking disgusted with both of them. "What?"

Kasumi grinned at her. "You miss him."

Shepard started with a sharp reply, checked herself, and had to smile because that was certainly true. "God, you have no idea."

* * *

Shepard sat on the couch in her quarters later, gazing silently across the room at the water in the fish tank. She didn't have any fish and wasn't sure she wanted any. The idea of a bunch of creepy little eyes staring at her all the time made her twitchy. Or maybe that was just her permanent state of mind these days.

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. _There you go, Rana. I blew your brains out because I was feeling twitchy. That's rough._

Perhaps what was most disturbing was she wasn't even particularly bothered by the fact she had killed the asari. It was the fact she hadn't thought about it. She vaguely remembered thinking it was perhaps dangerous to Wrex to have someone like her running around and if she had truly wanted to make amends, she could have offered her knowledge to the krogan on Tuchanka. It had truly been on impulse that she'd brought her gun up.

Shepard pressed her fingers against her temples harder and squeezed her eyes shut until she saw gray. She had put on a good front for Miranda, though how much she had fooled the woman, she couldn't say.

Omega.

The name almost seemed to sting her brain. The last time she'd been there seemed a hundred years ago. Running from her father, herself, and the knowledge everything he'd ever told her was a lie. That he'd been funding a slaver selling children for sex and she had unwittingly helped him do it. Christ, she'd been even more of a mess then than she was now, focused with hysterical energy on taking down the main financiers of that slaving ring. She'd been caught in a rage by it, had taken joy in it. She'd taken a few of them down, not all of them, but perhaps it was a blow that had helped weaken and eventually break it. She knew it had because Wrex had told her, he'd played a part in taking it down completely.

Wrex...the krogan in general, even the worst of them...did not take kindly to people who hurt children. Probably came from having your race sterilized.

In those days, gunning someone down on impulse had been almost second nature to her.

Disturbed by that thought, Shepard opened her eyes. It was like her resurrection and working with Cerberus had stripped a vital layer away from her. Like she was caught between the hate filled child that had torn her way through the Terminus Systems in a violent frenzy and the soldier that had emerged years later. She didn't know if she was intrigued or frightened by it.

She wasn't in any state to face Omega again, but there was no time to ease into it. She had no idea if she would _ever_ be ready to face Omega again. So she would just have to go anyway.

They could put it off a little while more- there was one other person off of Omega to recruit -but what was the point? Omega was only a short jaunt away and they had three people there to recruit. Plus, she had been perfectly serious about it being a fine place to give Grunt a test run, as it were.

She had no excuse, none at all. Shepard drew in a deep breath, reaching down into whatever pool of strength rested inside her, wrapping it around herself and shoving back the nightmares and doubts into a confined space in the back of her mind. It was time to face Omega.

* * *

The batarian stared impassively at the figure in the chair before him. The turian was tied up, slumped over in the chair, his head hanging, too exhausted to even be afraid anymore. The leathery green skin of his neck, around the back of his head and beneath his eyes was mottled with bruises and his clothing hid the other hurts that had been inflicted. At first glance, it seemed impossible to hurt a turian too much with brute force, what with all the plating, but any gang in Omega knew the right places to hit someone in order to inflict maximum pain, as this unfortunate turian had found out. There was no permanent damage. Fear had been an even more potent weapon than pain.

The batarian nodded to a human in blue armor that matched his, who brought a handheld comm up to the turian. He gave them a number in a hoarse voice and the human punched it in. Everyone in the room drew in a collective breath as they waited, a stir of excitement going through them when a voice answered. The turian cleared his throat. "G-Garrus?"

" _Sidonis? Are you all right?"_

For a moment, the turian stirred and seemed ready to pull away from the comm, guilt and misery in every line of his body. The batarian stepped into his view and silently held a long tool up, the haft of it settled against his palm. He clicked a button and a long, thick needle emerged from the base, sparking with electricity. The batarian smiled as a shudder tore through the turian. It seemed he wasn't beyond fear after all. "I need you to drop whatever it is you're doing and come meet me..."


	11. The Professor

Afterlife.

The nightclub was the erratically beating heart of Omega. It rose up against the dank, heavy background of the rest of Omega, its colors seeming unnaturally bright, seeming more _alive_ than any other place on the station. It was a palace of vice, which was fitting, as it served as the throne for Omega's pirate queen.

Denali stood on the top floor of the club not far from Aria's private booth, looking down at the other levels, packed full of patrons fighting, drinking, and watching the dancers gyrating on the center stages. She gripped the railing, the only outward sign of tension she gave as she watched a batarian make his way up out of the corner of her eye, moving toward their boss with an almost sheepish look.

When he reached the booth and stood in front of Aria, Denali finally turned, shifting so she was close enough to overhear.

"….slipped past us before we realized it. She went straight to the quarantine zone and talked her way past the guard. Moklan's waiting for her if she comes back out."

"Probably infecting the rest of the station. I told you Cerberus probably had something to do with that plague," another batarian in the entourage of guards around Aria spat.

Aria remained silent, leaning back in the booth, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "No, I don't think so."

Denali had to close her eyes for a moment. Two years ago, Liara T'soni, the asari who had traveled with Arian Shepard on her hunt for Saren, had come to Omega in search of the commander's body. Therefore, it wasn't as much a surprise to her when rumors had started that Shepard was still alive.

Denali had been slower to believe it. It hurt too much to hope. She'd known Arian since she was thirteen when her bastard of a father had brought her to the Terminus Systems. Had helped her when she finally escaped from him four years later. They had been friends and occasional lovers and everything in between right up until her death. Now the rumors…

She didn't know what to believe now, but Denali did know she couldn't simply stand by and do nothing.

Aria finally made a flicking motion with her hand. "Change of plans. Have Moklan send her to me if she comes out. My curiosity is piqued now."

Denali moved away from the railing, resigning herself to waiting a little longer.

* * *

Kasumi was starting to rethink her opinion about who was the most interesting character among the dossiers. Archangel was still up there, but Dr. Mordin Solus was starting to sound equally cool.

"Damn it...damn you..."

She glanced over as the batarian Shepard was crouched next to coughed and fell back, too weak to even curse Shepard anymore.

Obviously irritated, Shepard batted the sick batarian's hand away when he tried to stop her and stuck a micro-syringe of medi-gel into his arm. "That won't cure the plague but it'll probably help."

"If he's weak enough to be taken down from it, he doesn't deserve to live," Grunt's rumble was interrupted by a harsh cough. Shepard rose and regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, and then casually rammed a larger syringe of medi-gel into his neck as he bent over. Grunt let out a very un-kroganlike yelp and glared at her. Kasumi snickered.

The sick batarian was watching Shepard with wary confusion. "You...you helped me. Why?"

The commander shrugged. "Why not? I told you, I don't know if I can find a cure for the plague, but I'm going to try. Might as well have you live to see it."

One of the things about Shepard that made you believe she could do the impossible was the casual way she approached doing so. She talked about curing the plague that had shut this district down and was killing off everyone but its human and vorcha residents like she did it every day.

"Your words sound...sincere. Maybe it's the fever, but as you said...what have I to lose?" the batarian said. That was the nice thing about being trapped in a quarentine zone with mercs on one side and a killer plague that came out of nowhere on the other: the very real possibility of certain death at any moment certainly gave you perspective.

The very confused batarian was happy to direct them to where Solus's clinic was located, especially when Shepard promised she'd ask the salarian to send someone back for him. Kasumi saw Jacob eying Shepard with curiosity and couldn't blame him for it. Shepard wasn't know for having a particular love for batarians, for obvious reasons. Of course, _no one_ really liked batarians, but before she'd joined the Normandy, Shepard had been renowned for being a scourge to batarian slavers. She'd shot an asari in cold blood, but she tried to save a dying batarian. Shepard was a strange woman. But never a boring one.

Most of the thugs they were picking their way through were from the Blue Suns or the Blood Pack. Kasumi knew about both of them, of course. She loved big gangs like that. You never felt guilty at all about stealing stuff from them.

"There's a lot more of them than I would expect in a plague zone," Jacob said as they watched Grunt take down a Blood Pack krogan with almost frightening ease despite the increasing coughs that rattled from his throat. Shepard kept frowning at him worriedly.

She glanced over at Jacob. "Actually, there's much fewer than I was expecting. I would have thought I'd see more of the humans from the Blue Suns here picking off stragglers and looting." She paused, lifting her hand to her comm as she listened to something. Her brows furrowed. "Ah. EDI says she's picking up communications between gangs about plans to deal with Archangel. Damn…come on."

"She doesn't mean the gangs working together, does she?" Kasumi scoffed.

"I don't know. Looks like we'll just have to find out once we have Dr. Solus."

The batarian they'd helped had suspected Solus had probably been some kind of special forces among the salarians due to the fact he had never come across a clinic doctor who warned off gangs by displaying the bodies of their slain comrades in front of the clinic.

Shepard liked that. It made a statement.

His dossier said he was a biological weapons expert with light weapons training from the Salarian Special Tasks Group. Having encountered that particular group before, Shepard knew that wasn't anything to scoff at.

Finding Mordin Solus turned out to be the easy part. The clinic was stuffed with shell shocked refugees and harried workers, but it was easy to pick out Solus. He was a pale skinned salarian with a plethora of impressive scars, including missing one of his horns. He flitted around the clinic, chattering to himself, making notes with his omni tool.

Convincing him to join the cause required a bit more work. For one, they had to figure out what the hell he was saying. Trying to follow his speech reminded Shepard of playing that game where someone hid a ball beneath a cup and shuffled them around then made you guess where it was. Salarians in general thought (and talked and lived) faster than anyone else in the galaxy but Mordin was a cut above the rest in that area. He'd figured out they were from Cerberus once Shepard had asked him to join up, shooting deductions one by one out loud as he looked them over and coming to that conclusion within a minute.

Mordin had become interested when she had mentioned they were after the Collectors, mentioning almost off handedly that the plague had to be engineered and the Collectors were the only ones who possessed that kind of technology. It made sense; coinciding with the fact the plague didn't kill humans. Considering what she'd seen of the Collector's technology from the footage on the colonies, she though they might be better off dead.

Before he joined, Mordin had tasked them with taking the plague cure he'd developed and distributing it throughout the district via the environmental control center. A task that was made considerably more complicated by the fact the environmental controls shut down minutes later. Apparently the Collectors had changed their minds and decided everyone ought to just die right here and now.

This, combined with the fact her temper was already honed to an edge just by being on Omega, might have made her less than diplomatic with the vorcha guarding the control center. She'd officially used up all her diplomacy convincing a group of batarians to let Mordin's assistant, a bright young man named Daniel, live. She'd kept her word and let them leave once Daniel was free, but another surge of violence had swept through her as they left and it had taken all of her control not to take them out like she had with Rana.

So it was that she and Grunt were in a similar mood by the time they reached the control center. There were big groups of vorcha keeping guard on it, just as Mordin had warned. One of them ran forward, hissing at them. "You no come here! We shut down machines, break fans! Everyone choke and die! Then Collectors make us strong!"

So they were spreading the plague for the Collectors. Little bastards. Vorcha creeped her out. They looked like monkeys bred inside a nightmare, all sharp teeth and wide, crazy eyes. It gave her no little satisfaction to let Grunt loose on them and watch him mow them down.

Jacob whistled as they moved inside, helping Grunt out from a safe distance. "Remind me to never piss him off." Mordin had cured Grunt of the plague at the clinic and the little dear seemed bound and determined to remind them how strong he was.

More Blood Pack, Shepard noted, seeing a couple of krogan in red armor among the vorcha. The Collectors must have given them some kind of cure or immunity, because none of them seemed to be effected by the plague. However, neither they or the vorcha seemed to have realized that everyone in the district choking and dying meant _everyone_ in the district. Including them. Shepard could already feel the air pulling at her lungs as she breathed in and out. It left a foul aftertaste in the back of her throat.

Grunt plowed through the control center ahead of them, Kasumi fading into the shadows and attacking at random as Jacob followed Grunt and Shepard flanked him. They took out vorcha attacking Grunt from the side and larger groups of them when Grunt turned to take on one of the krogan. It went slower than Shepard would have liked, but eventually they made it to the controls. Jacob watched their backs as she and Kasumi got everything up and running again, taking a deep breath when the air started to circulate again and coughing, shaking his head. "Still tastes nasty."

"It'll take a while for the filtration to take care of that, probably," Shepard said. Personally, she thought the air on Omega was always heavy and foul, but that just could have been her. They distributed the cure per Mordin's instructions as Grunt came bounding up to them, covered in blood and looking like he was having a grand old time. He sniffed the air and huffed out a breath. "Air doesn't taste sick anymore. Guess the doctor has some use."

"What do you have against Dr. Solus?" Jacob wondered. "He just cured the plague."

"I hate salarians." Grunt tapped his head. "Programmed memories. I hate turians too!" He sounded delighted, which made Shepard snort, Jacob frown, and Kasumi edge slightly behind Shepard just in case he suddenly remembered he hated humans too.

"I wonder if the Collectors really were going to mutate the vorcha into something new and strong or if they were just going to let them all die with the rest of the district," Shepard said, looking around at the bodies scattered through out the control center.

"Don't know, but if they did keep their word, I'm going to go out on a limb and say it probably wouldn't have been quite what they thought it would," Jacob said. He looked over at her, his expression solemn. "I don't like what all this means for the colonists that have been abducted, Commander."

"Yeah…neither do I…"

* * *

"Environmental systems engaged. Airborne viral levels dropping. Patients improving. Vorcha retreating. Well done, Shepard. Thank you." Mordin Solus's fingers flew over the controls of one of his consoles and he muttered a couple of things to himself she couldn't make out.

Daniel was standing not far away, tending to a couple of patients. He looked up. "And thank you from me, as well. Those batarians would have killed me." He studied Shepard with sharp eyes. "For a second there, I thought you were going to shoot them even after they let me go."

Shepard just looked away.

Mordin turned from the console. "Merciful of you. Risky. Would have killed them, myself."

Daniel looked shocked. "Professor? How can you say that? You're a doctor. You believe in helping people."

"Lots of ways to help people. Sometimes heal patients. Sometimes execute dangerous people. Either way helps."

And that, Shepard thought, just about summed it up as neatly as you possibly could.

After leaving final instructions to Daniel, who would be taking over the clinic, Mordin insisted they all go through a specialized decontamination before leaving the district. Shepard had intended to drop him off at the ship to let him get settled and start going over their notes on the Collectors before looking into Archangel. She checked her stride as someone called out to her and turned to see a batarian stomping up.

"Commander?" Jacob asked quietly. Kasumi moved up to her side and Grunt moved up on the other, growling.

"Get Mordin settled and if Massani has come back from getting his bounty, then bring him out with you when you come back," Shepard said, speaking of the bounty hunter Cerberus had hired around the same time they hired Kasumi. Jacob didn't like it but he nodded and led Mordin onto the Normandy, the salarian loudly speculating that the batarian was an emissary from Aria T'Loak. Shepard was willing to bet that's what he was there for too.

The batarian stopped a few paces away and glared at her. "Welcome to Omega…Shepard."

"Evening."

The batarian crossed his arms. "We had you tagged since you entered the Terminus Systems." He paused, waiting for a response, and seemed a bit perturbed by Shepard's utter lack of surprise. "You're not as subtle as you think," he continued, digging a little.

Kasumi snorted. "Many words can be used to describe Shepard. Subtle isn't one of them."

The batarian barely spared her a glance before focusing on Shepard again. "Aria wants to know what brings a dead Spectre to Omega."

Of course.

"I suggest you go to Afterlife and present yourself."

"I've been here before, you know. Even I'm not stupid enough to cause problems or piss off Aria," Shepard said.

The batarian shook his head. "Things explode around you, Shepard. You can't blame Aria for keeping an eye on you."

He had a point, though she wasn't going to say that out loud.

"Afterlife. Now." With a rather dramatic arm wave, the batarian strode back the way he came.

* * *

They waited for Jacob to return with Zaeed Massani. EDI had suggested Afterlife as a jumping off point to find Archangel, but a little niggle of defiance and pride kept Shepard from just hopping to at Aria's order.

Shepard paused to take in the sight of the club with its gaudy lights, holographic flames burning above the doorway, and noisy crowds waiting to get in. They were waved through without even being asked to check their weapons, which Shepard judged to be a deliberate move on Aria's part. She wasn't afraid and wanted to show it.

To some, Afterlife was the real representation of Omega. Pirates and gangs tended to view Omega as a haven, a place where they were surrounded by people just like them, where they were honored for their deeds instead of hunted for them. The more romantically inclined passed through Omega considering it a place that was truly free, unbound by the hypocrisy of the bureaucrats in Citadel Space, where the strong weren't hindered by the weak, where they could be their true selves: different, better than the mindless sycophants who adhered to Council law.

To Shepard, it simply brought back memories of blood and rage and death, the smell of cigarette smoke and rot. Of children sold to the highest bidder and an entire station full of people who couldn't care less. Of close calls, barely escaping groups of men with furtive eyes who were on the constant look out for seventeen year old girls who let their guard down.

Omega was a cesspool. A rotting, stinking carcass of a meteoroid that stood as a balance to civilization, a constant reminder of what went on beneath the surface of things.

Afterlife hadn't changed a bit. She could have been walking in to the exact same scene she might have over a decade ago. That thought weighed her down.

Jacob seemed on edge, but Kasumi and Zaeed, who had both surely seen Afterlife many times before, were unimpressed. Grunt sniffed the air and looked around. "Drinking, fighting. These people all think they're krogan."

Shepard felt a smile curve her lips. Leave it to Grunt to take the mythical Afterlife down a peg.

_We don't have museums on Omega, we have Afterlife. Or maybe Afterlife can be considered a holo museum considering all the posing going on there._

It was sheer, utter willpower that kept Shepard from swaying at that amused female voice echoing through her head and kept her walking instead of stumbling. Denali. How could she have forgotten Denali? She glanced around as if the thought would conjure the woman she considered one of the few good things Omega had going for it.

There was no time to dwell on her friend, they were coming up to Aria's throne and one did not let their attention wander when in the presence of the Pirate Queen of Omega.

She stood, a tall, purple skinned asari, with her back to them, looking out over the club. She barely glanced over her shoulder as Shepard came up. "That's close enough."

Weapons were suddenly bristling from all sides, every one of them pointed toward Shepard and her people. Jacob drew his gun automatically, Grunt snarled, and she saw Zaeed's hand drop to his pistol. Shepard didn't even bat an eye, watching Aria silently. If she'd wanted them dead, they never would have made it here.

For a long moment, they stood that way, until Aria finally made a small motion with her head and her guards backed away, holstering their weapons. Shepard glanced at Jacob, who put his pistol away, and laid a hand on Grunt's shoulder to restrain him. Grunt shot a glance around, taking in how many people and weapons were around. She could almost read his thoughts, his common sense fighting with the idea of going out in a wave of glorious destruction and bloodshed. Since there was still a part of her that wasn't entirely adverse to that idea herself, she waited until she was certain he wasn't going to cause trouble. He was learning.

One of the batarians was doing some kind of scan on her with his omni tool. "Stand still," he said curtly.

"Certainly." Shepard kept her eyes on Aria, who finally turned to look at her.

Shepard had never actually met Aria T'Loak face to face. During her foray into Omega when she'd been younger, she had been far too insignificant to warrant Aria's attention. Funny, she'd never thought in a million years she would _ever_ be in the position to warrant Aria's attention. Denali had started working for her long after Shepard had left for Earth.

She was gorgeous. Shepard had never met an ugly asari, but even among that beautiful, ageless race, Aria was exceptional. She didn't have a weapon or fancy armor; she didn't need either. She wore power like a cloak, it was in every move she made, every flick of a glance she shot your way. To shorter lived races, she seemed to have ruled Omega from the beginning of time. Shepard didn't have any doubt that she had cultivated that image over many a year, but the fact remained she was able to pull it off with ease.

The batarian stepped back and the two women regarded each other for a long moment, the silence stretching out. Silence was a very good tactic to make your enemies nervous; Shepard knew and utilized that herself. It was rather annoying to have it turned back on her, but she withstood it. Aria was running this show, let her take the lead.

Kasumi, a romantic at heart, thought the picture the two made was fantastically dramatic. The entire world seemed to have narrowed down to those two figures. Everyone else seemed to just fade, as if overwhelmed by their presence.

Aria, finally taking Shepard's measure, spoke at last: "You've been busy. You managed to slip by Moklan when you arrived, it's been a while since I saw that happen."

"Unintended, I assure you, I wasn't trying to sneak anywhere, I was just in a hurry." As with the Illusive Man, Shepard knew she didn't have a prayer of matching Aria's skill in this subtle game of power and posturing, so she figured honesty was the best policy. "I didn't come to cause trouble. I know who rules Omega."

"Rules?" Aria seemed amused, turning and spreading her arms. Also like the Illusive Man, Aria understood the value of a good background. The picture she presented was dramatic, resonating with power to go along with her words: "I _am_ Omega." She looked back to Shepard. "But you need more. Everyone needs more something. And they all come to me. I'm the boss, CEO, queen if you're feeling dramatic. Omega has no titled ruler and only one rule." She sat down in one smooth, graceful movement, the picture of arrogant self possession. "Don't fuck with Aria."

Shepard fought the urge to applaud. "Easy enough to remember."

"If you forget, someone will remind you." She glanced over at one of her batarian bodyguards, who grinned as he spoke: "And then I toss your sorry ass out of the nearest airlock."

"Ah, well, I'll keep that in mind. I already died once in a similar manner, I don't want to repeat the experience. It isn't pleasant," Shepard said calmly.

That discomfited the batarian. In fact, it was the first thing she'd said that seemed to make an impression on everyone around them. Aria merely raised her eyebrows, but Zaeed eyed her curiously and several of Aria's people glanced at each other, not sure how to react to such a bizarre statement, especially with the calm, matter-of-fact tone Shepard had said it.

There was another moment of silence, this one a bit awkward, before Aria calmly gestured to the wide booth that took up the entire alcove. Grunt growled when the batarian shifted so he would be closer to Shepard. She looked over at him and shook her head. "Grunt, treasure, you've been chomping on vorcha all day and it looks like you'll be getting some gang members later on. Patience." Shepard sat, crossing one leg over the other. Aria studied her for a moment. "You didn't come here to cure the plague," she finally said.

Sticking with her 'honesty is the best policy' approach, Shepard shook her head. "I came to…recruit…a few people for a mission." She gestured to Zaeed, who smirked. "In that case, it was Mordin Solus. Curing the plague was a nice bonus, though."

"The Professor? Good choice. Don't let him start talking, though, he never shuts up," Aria said.

Shepard smiled wryly. "I noticed."

"So who else are you after that means your young krogan there will get to snack on gang members?" Aria seemed genuinely curious now that she had established Shepard wasn't a threat.

Shepard considered that a stroke of luck. "I'm trying to track down Archangel."

"You and half of Omega. You looking to recruit him, or do you want him dead too?"

"He's on the list."

"Interesting. You're going to make a lot of enemies teaming up with Archangel."

"What's a few more?"

Aria gave her a slightly condescending smile. "That's assuming you can get to him. He's in a bit of trouble right now."

"So I hear. You don't happen to know where I could find him, do you?"

"The local merc groups are recruiting anyone with a gun to help them take down Archangel."

"The local merc groups?"

"Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack, mostly. It's actually impressive, they never band together unless there's a war," Aria said.

"All three of them? Well, that's…annoying." Shepard scowled, genuinely irritated, which seemed to amuse Aria.

She jerked a thumb toward the club. "They're using a private room for recruiting…just over there. I'm sure they'll sign you up."

Well, damn it to hell, couldn't they have waited another day or so? Then she might have taken Archangel off their hands and everyone would have been happy. "Thanks for the tip."

"See if you still feel that way when the mercs figure out you're here to help him."

"Sounds like a good fight, Shepard," Grunt chortled. He bared his teeth in a grin that reminded her so much of Wrex in that moment, it was almost painful.

"Indeed. Sounds like we don't have much time to waste." She rose to her feet.

Aria chuckled. "You've got all the time in the world. Archangel…not so much."

* * *

Garrus crouched and pulled a heavy peace of tarp over Sara Montegue's body. Her face was peaceful in death, though her hair was matted with blood. He laid a hand on top of the tarp for a long moment, closing his eyes. He didn't feel much, either of guilt or sorrow. He didn't have room in him for that at the moment. All he had was a moment or two to cover them all up decently.

It was all he could do.

He turned his head toward the balcony and rose, snatching up his rifle as he looked over. More freelancers. Sheep for the slaughter. Grimly, he brought his omni tool up and set it to record before settling the rifle on his shoulder and sighting down the barrel. There seemed to be a grim symmetry in gunning them down while he recorded his last words.

There was no room in him for mercy anymore, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Move your ass, Shepard!!!


	12. Gang War

"At least there's one kid that's going to walk away from this," Kasumi said as several freelancers ran past them, older than the kid she'd dissuaded…well, she'd broken his gun…from joining the fight against Archangel, but not by much. Bright, eager to get in on the chance to make a name for themselves.

They were fodder.

_Distraction team, my ass,_ Shepard thought with disgust. She could read between the lines, though apparently none of the other idiots signing up could.

The one good thing about acting this part was they were handing out information like candy. Archangel had been able to keep the mercs at bay because his hideout was on the other end of a bridge and he gunned down anyone who tried to come across it. They had an infiltration team that managed to make it across the bridge, but they couldn't get in without being seen. The gangs were hiring the freelancers to throw at him long enough for the infiltration team to sneak up on him.

And the infiltration team only just made it because they had a gunship to distract him before he took it down. Took down a fucking gunship with a sniper rifle. Mission or no mission, she _had_ to meet this guy.

Shepard led the way toward the sound of gunfire ahead, not hurrying, keeping her ears and eyes open. So, they had to get across the bridge and convince Archangel they were on his side, then get him out of there through the organized gangs before they managed to tunnel into the hideout. Simple.

Another nice thing about playing freelance merc was while they were getting annoyed and superior glances, no one was really paying much attention to them. As far as the organized gangs were concerned they were already dead, after all. As long as they acted casual, no one was stopping them from wandering around a bit. She gave only a passing glance at the salarian in an Eclipse uniform who was ranting at an unfortunate subordinate and ignoring them completely. She was more interested in taking stock of the mechs they were prepping. Humanoid LOKI mechs for the most part. She paused, however, when she peered into a side room that housed a big YMIR mech. Oh, that wouldn't do, not at all. She glanced casually over her shoulder and then beckoned to Kasumi before sending the others ahead. "Keep an eye out for me." She made sure no one was watching and ducked into the room.

If she'd had time, she would have tried a mass reprogramming of all the mechs, but she could settle for the big one. She hummed softly as she worked, glancing up occasionally. Kasumi had cloaked herself but Shepard could hear her shuffling around.

She appeared at Shepard's side just as Shepard was closing the mech up again. "Shep, check this out." The grinning thief held out a datapad to her. She took it and scanned the contents, her eyebrows winging up.

_Tarak:_ _  
_I've spoken to Garm, and he and his men are on board. Assuming this operation is successful, we can count on high morale and extensive buy-in from the men. From the losses we've already taken, possibility exists that we won't have the men needed to continue on to the next objective. It's clear, though that none of our organizations would be ready to move on Aria without the assistance of the other two._   
_Jaroth_ _

"My, my…the boys are looking to rebel against the queen," Shepard murmured. "Off with her head."

"Bet you Aria would be _extremely_ interested to see that," Kasumi said slyly.

"No doubt. Keep that close, would you?" Shepard handed the datapad back to her and Kasumi tucked it away.

They caught up with Zaeed, Jacob, and Grunt only to find they weren't alone. There was a big krogan in red armor talking to Grunt, who didn't look impressed. The other krogan was surrounded by vorcha and Shepard was willing to bet she was looking at the leader of the Blood Pack. She knew his name because Mordin had mentioned him: Garm. He might have intimidated her if she didn't have clear memories of working with Wrex. There were very few krogan who matched Wrex.

Garm didn't appear to be talking to Grunt so much as lecturing him. "You need to know how to live and die without fear." Garm pulled a gun and aimed it at the vorcha nearest to him. He pulled the trigger and the critter's head went flying, hitting the floor with a wet smack and bouncing to a halt not far from her feet. Garm stared at her, smirking. "And how to put that fear in the hearts of your enemies."

Grunt glanced over. "Shepard does all that and more."

_Awww_. Coming from Grunt, that was outright affection. She beamed at him.

Garm raked his gaze over her head to toe. "If you say so."

"Well, I did get out of the habit of randomly shooting a squadmate just to make a point," Shepard commented, kicking the vorcha's head out of the way as she strolled up beside Grunt.

"I, for one, am very grateful for that, Commander," Jacob said dryly.

"Good thing, since you'd probably be the first one she shot," Zaeed said.

Garm just sneered. "I'm stuck here until you freelancers are done playing war. Do me a favor and hurry it up so we can get some real action." He turned away.

"Catch you on the flip side," Shepard said, unable to keep the irony out of her voice.

Kasumi caught the tone and smirked as they walked away. "Getting in should be easy. Getting out should be fun," she said quietly. Jacob gave her an odd look but Shepard couldn't help the smile that curved her lips, understanding Kasumi's amusement perfectly. The more they talked to people they were going to turn on within the next hour, the more she saw the grim humor of the situation.

Grunt wasn't the only one attracting attention from the merc leaders. She had a momentary scare when the leader of the Blue Suns, Tarak, recognized Zaeed. The batarian was surprised he was working for so little, which made Shepard curse inwardly because it was a valid question. Zaeed Massani was one of the highest paid bounty hunters in the galaxy; it made perfect sense to wonder what the hell he was doing among a bunch of (seemingly) two-bit freelance mercs.

She regarded Zaeed thoughtfully for a moment, wondering how much he and Tarak had worked together. She didn't know much about Zaeed beyond what his dossier…and reputation…said. He wasn't really big on chatting, which didn't surprise her. Most bounty hunters weren't the chatting type. You didn't get to be the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy by being forthcoming with what you knew.

Luckily, Tarak seemed far too agitated…she agreed with Zaeed's observation that he was acting like a madman…to be suspicious. He distractedly turned them over to his second-in-command, a human woman named Jentha. She turned out to know a bit more about Archangel than anyone else had previously. She knew he was a turian, for one, although where he'd come from before he'd shown up a few months ago, she didn't know any better than anyone else. "He went after Tarak. In his home! Almost got him," Jentha said, scowling.

_Bet he thought no one could ever touch him there_ , Shepard thought, biting back a smirk.

"He's been on edge ever since and making my life a living hell. Second guesses every damn thing I do. Getting the other merc bands to help us shows you just how desperate he is. They're as bad as Archangel," Jentha continued with unconscious arrogance, her lip curling.

Shepard made a noncommittal sound she hoped would be taken as agreement before excusing herself. They had the information they needed. It was time to get this show on the road.

Getting to the batarian in charge of organizing the 'distraction' team required them to hurry across an exposed boulevard. Shepard put her tech armor up before crossing, using the opportunity to glance across the bridge. She caught a glimpse of a figure in blue armor on a balcony in the upper level.

A turian sniper…in blue armor...

The moment of distraction cost her as a bullet plowed into her shoulder, making her shields flicker and knocking her back a step. Shepard swore under her breath, striding to relative safety before he could get off a second shot. _You can't afford that kind of wishful thinking now, idiot,_ _she bereted herself._

"You're lucky, he usually doesn't miss," one of the freelancers commented.

"He must really be starting to get tired," another crowed, sounding delighted.

Shepard barely managed to resist the urge to slug him, muttering something inaudible as she moved toward the gunship and ignoring Jacob's questioning look. She focused on Cathka, the batarian working on the ship, as he rose, setting a sparking welder aside and turning toward her. "You must be the group Salkie mentioned. Just in time. The infiltration team is just about to give us the signal." He chuckled. "Archangel won't know what hit him."

Shepard focused on the gunship, narrowing her eyes. "Are you going to be covering us with that thing?"

"Hah. Tarak is the only one who flies this thing. Besides, she's not quite ready. That bastard Archangel gave her a beating last time she was out there. A few more tweaks and she'll be as good as new."

_Hell._ Shepard glanced at the gunship again, wondering if she could manage to sabotage it in a timely manner without drawing too much attention. "Are you leading the assault?" she asked, more to distract him than any actual interest.

Cathka snorted. "Tarak doesn't pay me to fight. I just plan the attacks and fix the damn gunship. You freelancers get the privilege of…" He paused as a signal came from a console nearby.

"…dying," Zaeed finished under his breath, meeting Shepard's gaze wryly.

Cathka didn't hear, staring at the console and nodding. "Check. Bravo team, go, go, go!" There were yells from the freelancers as they ran toward the makeshift barricade separating them from the bridge. Cathka leaned back. "Archangel's got quite a surprise waiting for him."

_And so do you, dear heart._ Shepard's eyes drifted to the welder he'd left on the table.

"But that means no more waiting for me." Cathka turned back toward the gunship. "Got to get her back to a hundred percent before Tarak decides he needs her again."

' _Fraid I can't let you do that._ Shepard moved to the table and plucked the welder up. She couldn't sabotage the ship, but she could sabotage the guy working on it. She rammed the welder into his back. Cathka screamed, his body jerking spasmodically. Shepard watched him drop to the ground, wrinkling her nose at the smell of burnt metal and flesh. "Sorry, sugar, nothing personal."

Jacob was watching her warily but Zaeed was grinning. Shepard ignored them both, turning toward the barricade.

"Doesn't look good for Archangel," Zaeed commented.

Kasumi grinned. "We've got nothing better to do. Let's go."

* * *

He couldn't breathe.

That had started when he'd first caught a glimpse of her through the scope. That moment when she'd paused behind the barricade and looked up at him. At first, he felt sure it had to be a hallucination. The stress and exhaustion were finally taking him over.

After the initial rush of shock, the first emotion that had flooded him had been pure, unadulterated rage. His finger had squeezed the trigger on reflex and he'd fired without really aiming, not even noticing if it hit her or not. They knew. That was the next crazily reeling thought that had passed through him. Somehow they had found out who he was and this was the final cruelty, the final taunt. They had sent someone that looked like her to finish him off.

But he wasn't going down, no. Not until he managed to take down this _bitch._ This _imposter._

A tall, pale figure launched itself over the barricade and Garrus was ready. She had some kind of specialized armor, more than one barrier, but he could take her down with a few well placed shots.

Then she moved.

She pulled a pistol in one hand and a submachine gun in the other all in one smooth, impossibly graceful move, not so much walking as gliding. The silent, liquid movement of a predator that didn't need to hurry. It took his breath away, because no one else could move quite like that, could infuse every movement with that casual grace. She looked up toward him again as the group around her spread out almost in a V formation. That, too, was terribly, terribly familiar. It was lucky for him they started taking out the mercs on the bridge, because for a moment he couldn't think, much less fire. "Shepard…"

One of the mercs took a shot at him, which made him stir. He settled his rifle back onto his shoulder and went back to work shooting, keeping an ear out as they disappeared out of his sight. When there was only one merc left, he moved inward toward the top of the stairs, listening. A jolt went through him as he heard the sound of someone trying to cut their way through the door. Before he could react, there was a cry and a thud. Then silence. Garrus listened for a long moment, then cautiously lifted his omni tool and unlocked the door before backing away from the stairs and moving back to the balcony.

He sighted through the scope again, focusing on the remaining merc, but he was listening to the footsteps coming up the stairs behind him.

"Archangel?"

It was her. It _was_ her.

He could only hope they didn't notice his hand shaking as he held up a finger in a silent request, waiting for the merc to move out of cover and giving himself a moment to pull together. The merc finally leaned around the pillar anxiously and was met by a bullet through the brain.

Having no more excuses not to turn around, Garrus rose. He hadn't realized how heavy his limbs had become and ended up having to use his rifle to push himself to his feet. He turned around slowly.

She stood watching him silently, her head cocked to one side. Those long gray eyes took him in, following every movement. She'd had that same look more than two years ago when he'd first joined up with her in Dr. Michel's clinic. Except there was an odd, intense expression on her face now. Perhaps a hint of recognition…

If she was a hallucination, there were worse ways to go crazy.

He took his helmet off and set it aside, sitting down and propping his rifle against a chair, raising his gaze to her again. She was staring at him with wide eyes now.

He managed to keep his voice level as he finally spoke: "Shepard, I thought you were dead." He wanted to demand some kind of proof it was really her, that she was really _there_ , but his tongue seemed thick in his mouth and there was a lump in his throat.

They stared at each other for a few moments of humming silence, and then Shepard smiled at him. One of those rare, true smiles of hers that lit up her eyes and everything about her. "What's doing, handsome?"

* * *

Of course it was Garrus. Who else could it be but Garrus?

Swallowing hard, Shepard took another step toward the turian, half convinced he would just fade away in the next few seconds. "Garrus. You okay?"

Garrus was kind enough not to point out what an idiotic question that was. He was clearly _not_ okay. Not by a long shot. He was clearly exhausted and the physical strain was probably nothing compared to the stress on his mind and emotions. "Been better, but it sure is good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work. Especially on my own."

What he didn't show with body language, Shepard had learned to pick up from his voice. She heard the sorrow beneath those words and remembered one of the gang members in charge had mentioned wiping out a team before cornering Archangel. She drifted closer to him. "What are you doing here, Garrus?"

He looked away. "I got fed up with all the bureaucratic crap on the Citadel. Figured I could do more good on my own."

"So you decided to come here and clear out Omega? You never do anything by halves, do you, handsome?"

Garrus shrugged. "At least it isn't hard to find criminals here. All I have to do is point my gun and shoot."

"And you managed to piss off every merc on Omega along the way."

"It wasn't that easy. I really had to work at it. I'm surprised they teamed up to take me down. They must really hate me." Garrus looked up as Kasumi wandered up beside Shepard. The commander started a bit. For a couple of minutes, she'd completely forgotten there was anyone else in the room. "Ah. Garrus, this is Kasumi Goto." She turned toward the others and introduced them, sweeping a hand toward Garrus. "Gentlemen…and lady….Garrus Vakarian, hero of the Citadel. And Archangel. Where the hell did that come from, by the way?" she asked, looking back at him.

Garrus shifted uncomfortably. "It's just a name the locals gave me for all my good deeds." He coughed, his mandibles flaring with embarrassment. She made a mental note to rag on him a bit about that in revenge for all the times he'd laughed at her for being uncomfortable around fans. "I don't mind it, but please, it's just Garrus to you."

She laid a hand on his knee briefly as she turned toward the balcony. "We're going to get you out of here, Garrus. Although that's not going to be as easy as getting in."

"No, it won't be." He rose and came up beside her. Right where he belonged. She was startled by that thought, pushing it aside. "That bridge has saved my life…funneling all those witless idiots into the scope. But it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way."

"We can't just sit here and wait for them to take us out," Jacob said, looking from her to Garrus. There was a sharp look in his eyes that made Shepard feel slightly defensive. She could only imagine what he was going to report to Miranda.

"It's not all bad," Garrus said. "This place has held them off so far. And with you here now…" He looked over at her, and then glanced at the others. "I suggest we hold this location, wait for a crack in their defenses, and take our chances. It's not a perfect plan, but it's a plan."

Shepard studied the bridge silently, going over different ideas and discarding each. Garrus was right. They were horribly outnumbered and outgunned. The only thing that took that edge away was the bridge. She nodded slowly. "Sneaky isn't my strong point anyway."

Garrus gave her a tired but genuinely amused look. "Taking out mercs from behind, blowing them up…did they redefine the definition of the term 'sneaky' recently?"

" _I_ redefined it, Garrus." Shepard tossed her head. Garrus laughed, a sound that certainly lifted _her_ spirits and she could only hope it lifted his.

"Glad to see you haven't changed, Shepard." Even as he said it, she saw his eyes travel over her face and what he could see of the rest of her, clearly visible changes that defied those words. He looked away. "Let's see what they're up to." He raised his rifle, looking through the scope. "Hmm…looks like they know their infiltration team failed." He handed her the rifle. "Take a look. Scouts. Eclipse, I think."

"Too bad it's not Blue Suns, I kind of wanted to see Tarak's reaction. I bet he threw things."

Zaeed snorted. "Good guess."

Shepard looked through the scope and frowned. "They're bringing in the damn mechs. More than scouts I think." She took aim at one that hopped over the barrier and blew its head off. "One less now, though."

She handed the rifle back to Garrus, who chuckled. "Indeed. We better get ready. I'll stay up here. I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point."

"We did notice."

"You…you can do what you do best." He looked over at her. "Just like old times, Shepard."

* * *

The first wave of mechs went down with little to no trouble, which was when Eclipse brought out the snipers. That caused a bit more trouble, but between her and Jacob tossing a few of them up in the air and well placed hits from Garrus and Zaeed, they too fell. Kasumi cloaked herself and worked in tandem with her to bring their shields down. Grunt's aim wasn't as good as it could be, he was still learning yet, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with enthusiasm. Not to mention he had a big ass gun, so he didn't exactly have to be precise to blow some of the mercs to pieces. When Jacob pointed out a pair of them trying to sneak a bomb in while surrounded by a group of shielded troops, Shepard merely pointed her omni tool and overloaded the bomb's circuits, causing it to explode while they were still on the bridge. Grunt started laughing uproariously as the survivors rushed about, panicked.

Garrus swore as the babbling salarian Shepard had first seen…she assumed he was the leader…appeared at the barrier and the YMIR mech was lifted over. The salarian motioned and the mech came to life. Garrus raised his rifle and Shepard simply laid two fingers on the barrel, urging him to lower it again. She grinned at him. "Never get so distracted by planning that you leave your mechs unattended."

Kasumi snickered.

The salarian barely had time to register the fact that something was terribly awry before the mech turned and started firing at him and his troops. She'd been afraid once they realized Shepard and her group were traitors, they would go over the mechs and discover the tampering. Obviously, she'd given them far too much credit.

It was actually kind of fun to simply sit back and watch the YMIR and the mercs battle it out, giving it a little help every now and then. When one of the mercs managed to make it past, they simply gunned him or her down. Including the babbling salarian, who was shrieking by that point.

"Bye, Jaroth," Garrus murmured, watching him fall.

"Ah, so that's his name. _Was_ his name," she corrected herself. The mech finally collapsed, but by that time there were so few of them left, cleaning them up took little effort.

"I've been hunting that little bastard for months. He was shipping tainted eezo all over Citadel space." Garrus shook his head.

Shepard moved to the balcony and squinted out across the bridge. "So Blue Suns and Blood Pack left." She frowned in puzzlement. "Look."

Garrus narrowed his eyes. "They've reinforced the other side. Heavily. But they aren't coming over yet. What the hell are they waiting for…?"

As if answering that question, a rumble went through the entire building, making them stumble. Garrus whipped around and Shepard winced. "For someone to tunnel underneath the building, maybe?"

Garrus brought something up on his omni-tool and cursed softly. "They've breached the lower level," he confirmed. "Well, they had to use their brains sometime. You'd better get down there, Shepard. I'll keep the bridge clear."

Amused, Shepard wondered if he realized how easily he slipped into giving orders. That was new. "Right. Grunt, Kasumi, you stay up here and look after Garrus. Zaeed, Jacob, you come with me."

"Aw, but I was looking forward to crawling through the dark creepy basement!" Kasumi said with a notable lack of sincerity.

Grunt shrugged. "As long as I get to kill something."

Shepard patted him on the shoulder as she passed. "That's right, just keep shooting heads off. Or ripping them off. You know, the way you do."

"Shepard, are you sure?" Garrus said, looking concerned. "Who knows what you'll find down there."

"We'll be fine, handsome. Where to?"

Garrus pointed. "Go down a level- the basement door is on the west side of the main room, behind the stairs."

"Don't do anything fun without me." Shepard waved over her shoulder.

"Ah, Shepard, you know the real party can't start without you here," Garrus said with a trace of his old humor.

When Shepard had first passed through the base on the way up, she had taken note of the bullet holes and blood stains on the walls, but had been too focused on getting to him to notice the shapes on the floor. They were scattered everywhere, covered with tarps and blankets and sheets, anything he could find.

His team.

_Oh, God, Garrus._ She felt sick. _I knew something would happen in your life that would flip everything around and make you broaden your view. It happens to all of us. But not this. Never this._

Garrus watched her go. As it had so often since the siege on the base began, his hand rose unconsciously to settle over the spot where, beneath his armor, her St. Jude medal rested.

* * *

" _Goddamn it, Tarak, they can't get in through the tunnels! That bitch sealed up the basement!"_

Kasumi grinned at the gravelly voice over the comm. They were starting to get a little bit worried. Shepard had been gone for a while. Between her and Shepard, they'd managed to hack the comms so they could listen to some of the chatter between the gangs. "She's good."

"You have no idea," Garrus said.

Kasumi raised an eyebrow, but before she could comment, more voices chattered over the comm. They were breaking in, there were just too many of them now to hold back. Garrus clicked his own comm. "Get back up here, Shepard, they're coming in through the doors!"

" _On my way."_

Something heavy hit the door downstairs and a muffled voice roared: "Archangel! We're coming for you, you bastard!"

"Garm," Garrus said grimly.

"Oh, really?" Grunt rumbled, baring his teeth in a grin. He moved down the stairs slowly.

" _He must be pissed off we've taken out so many of his peons,"_ Shepard said. _"Though one of the krogan managed to knock me around a bit."_

"Shepard?" Garrus said, sounding worried.

" _I'm fine, Garrus. Just hold on."_

Kasumi, standing at the top of the stairs, turned as she saw sparks start to flare down the center of the front doors. "Archangel!"

Garm forced his way through the doors with a mighty and melodramatic roar. "Rip them to shreds!"

Garrus killed the vorcha standing right next to him. Garm's head swung toward him. He snarled. "Watch my back. I'll deal with Archangel."

Grunt bounded down the stairs, standing in the way, punching one fist into his palm and grinning. Garm simply narrowed his eyes. "Get out of the way, kid."

"Why don't you try giving me some lessons like we talked about earlier?" Grunt replied, moving toward him.

Kasumi saw the tell tale shimmer in the air around Garm even before Garrus shouted a warning to Grunt. Too late. Grunt lunged forward with a roar only to be thrown clear off his feet by a wave of biotic power. She actually saw his flesh ripple from the force of it and winced in sympathy. "I think Grunt needs lessons on how to deal with biotics…"

"No offense kid," Garm said arrogantly, looking back up at Garrus. "But this guy has been a pain in my ass for far too long."

A shot echoed from behind the stairs, taking out another vorcha. "You haven't even begun to see what a pain in the ass he can be," Shepard called.

Kasumi couldn't help but laugh. She sounded so _proud._

Garm snarled and his vorcha surged toward Shepard's group. Garm lunged for the stairs but before he could head up, Grunt slammed into him from the side, sending them both flying. Kasumi couldn't help but gape and even Garrus looked startled. She'd seen people disabled for _days_ after being hit by a biotic attack like that.

Blue Suns were starting to pour in through the door now. Garrus started firing again and Kasumi cloaked herself, going to work on shields and anyone stupid enough to turn their back on her. She saw the Blue Suns second-in-command, Jentha, run in. She started waving her hands and shouting orders, only to come face to face with Shepard. Jentha shouted something that was lost over the noise (although Kasumi was fairly certain the word 'bitch' was in there somewhere) and attacked. Shepard drove her back along the wall, the two dodging each other's attacks and lashing out in a deadly dance. Shepard finally threw her into a wall with a biotic attack. Kasumi didn't get a chance to see if she was dead because Garm had gotten away from Grunt and was lunging up the stairs. Garrus opened fire as the krogan lunged for him. Jacob came running up to help him and Kasumi turned to keep any of the other troops from attacking.

Garm was bleeding from a dozen wounds, but he wasn't showing any signs of slowing down. He lunged at Garrus, who dodged, bullet after bullet slamming into the krogan's shields. "Waiting for your vorcha to come and save you again, Garm? Just like last time!"

The krogan punched out with a biotic attack, but Garrus was more canny about biotics than Grunt and dodged it again. Jacob opened fire at the krogan's back and there was a spark in the air as his shields began to fail. Garm went for Garrus again, but Grunt suddenly came crashing up the stairs and slammed into him, bringing a ham sized fist down on the back of his head, throwing him down onto the floor. Garrus stepped up and pressed his rifle to the back of Garm's skull and blew it away. Grunt reared back up with a whoop of victory, sounding exhilarated.

_Well, at least one of us is having a good time._ Kasumi glanced up, breathing a sigh of relief the bastard was finally dead…and caught a glimpse of something moving beyond the balcony. She cried out a warning even as Shepard's voice came over the comm. _"Garrus, there's more Blue Suns showing up!"_

Her words were drowned out by the sound of Tarak's gunship sweeping up to the window. Blue Suns troops leaped into the building and Grunt and Garrus moved forward to meet them. "We've got more getting offloaded up here, watch your back, Shepard! Damn it, I thought I took that thing down!"

The world dissolved into gunfire and shouts again as they faced off with the Blue Suns troops and the few remaining Blood Pack. She heard Shepard shouting something from below, strings of curses and insults. Kasumi dared a look over her shoulder and was relieved to see Shepard and Zaeed were halfway up the stairs, holding the position. It gave them the advantage against the flood of people because they couldn't surround them.

Everything seemed to be going so well. Kasumi was actually starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. She was about to shout a suggestion they make their way toward the door and fight their way out through the remaining Blue Suns…then Tarak showed up again.

"ARCHANGEL!"

His voice boomed from the gunship as it dropped back in front of the window again. Kasumi realized with a jolt of alarm that Garrus had been intent on taking down the mercs and had drifted away from the rest of them. He was directly in the gunship's sights. When its guns started firing, he didn't even have a chance to dodge. She heard Jacob shout something to Shepard as Garrus was thrown to the ground by the shots. "YOU THINK YOU CAN SCREW WITH THE BLUE SUNS?"

She tried to move around, trusting her cloak to keep her hidden from Tarak's view. Garrus managed to crawl behind a couch even as the hail of bullets ceased. Kasumi saw the fake out coming and tried to warn Garrus not to fall for it, but it was too late. The gunship rumbled as its missile launcher fired up and Tarak launched one into the base as Garrus lunged for safer ground. "THIS ENDS NOW!" Tarak yelled as the missile caught the turian. The blast threw him clear into the air.

Grunt yelled something at Tarak she couldn't hear right as Shepard came around the corner into the main room. "Kasumi! Jacob! What's…"

She saw Garrus on the floor, blue blood pooling around his still form.

If Kasumi Goto was sure of nothing else in the universe, she was certain of one thing: She never, _never_ wanted to be on the receiving end of the look that passed across Shepard's face in that moment. It was _beyond_ rage. She didn't even have a word to describe it. Shepard's face went completely blank; an icy, malevolent mask. But her eyes burned.

She turned toward the gunship, her tech armor flaring around her, making a silent motion of command. Jacob, a true soldier, responded instantly, opening fire with his rifle on the gunship. Tarak started firing again, trying to wind up another missile, but Shepard had prevented Cathka from fixing it fully. Kasumi could already see the gunship's shields faltering.

Shepard stalked toward the window, biotic power shimmering in the air around her. With a shriek of fury that raised the hairs on Kasumi's neck, the commander tore one of the chairs free of the floor and threw it at the gunship with eerie, terrifying precision just as the shields failed. It smashed into the front of it and Shepard opened fire at the same time. The gunship shuddered in the air, explosions rocking it as it dropped toward the ground. The building shook again as it fell out of sight and a plume of smoke and fire blew upward.

Shepard didn't even see it. She was already dropping down beside Garrus's still form, that icy rage melting into fear. She touched his shoulder. "Garrus…" Her voice had softened in a way Kasumi had never heard before.

Shepard bent over him while the rest of them watched silently, not sure what to say to her. Then Garrus stirred, sucking in a gasping breath. It rattled wetly in his throat. He groped for his rifle and Shepard caught his hand and pulled him over onto his back. Kasumi pulled in a breath when she got a clear look at the smoking ruin that now made up half of the turian's face and neck. "We're getting you out of here, Garrus. Just hold on," Shepard said. She was bleeding herself, Kasumi noted, but she didn't think she noticed it. "Radio Joker," she snapped over her shoulder at Jacob. "Make sure they're ready for us."


	13. Garrus and Shepard

It was a relief to get out of the comm room, leaving Shepard to pace and mutter behind him. Jacob hadn't relished being the one to give Shepard the news but at least she was talking again.

Up until that point, there had been no talking to Shepard. Shepard was completely uninterested in any subject that was not Garrus Vakarian. Miranda had been hoping for something that would spark Shepard, something that would make her a bit more like the woman she used to be, but none of them had anticipated this. For one thing, none of them had known Vakarian was Archangel. Not even the Illusive Man. Jacob was relatively certain of this, because if he had, he would have let it be known somehow, since Omega was where he'd wanted Shepard to head first. And it was painfully obvious that if Shepard had known who Archangel was and that he was in danger, she would have torn the Terminus Systems apart to get to him.

Miranda had gotten her wish big time. Shepard wasn't a spark, she was a goddamn whirlwind. She had been storming from one end of the ship to the other. It wasn't _damaging_ to the crew, exactly…it wasn't like she was biting heads off, she was barely saying anything at all…but this sudden return of the maniac intensity that she was infamous for was a shock to all their senses. With the chaos brought on while bringing Vakarian onto the ship and rumors flying, there was no way anyone could mistake the cause of it, either.

It had been Dr. Chakwas that had finally told her to get a hold of herself, since they wouldn't know anything for a while and Shepard, in her opinion, had become too edgy to live with. Shepard, surprisingly, had taken this advice, turning that mad energy toward Omega instead of the ship. Kasumi had volunteered to go with her to show that datapad to Aria and Jacob had gone with them. The datapad was kind of moot, since all three of the leaders were dead, but Shepard still wanted to hand it over to Aria. If nothing, it meant Aria couldn't get pissed off at them for keeping that information to themselves when she found out about it…and she probably would…later.

Of course, seeing the glances exchanged among Aria's entourage when Shepard had oh- so- casually mentioned Jaroth, Tarak, and Garm were all dead made it all worth it. It was apparent Aria hadn't expected them to come back alive, much less kill off most of the gangs. Not that any of the gangs would be down for long, they probably all had new leaders in place already. But it would be quite a while before they had the morale or means to try and make a move against the Pirate Queen.

On the way back, another asari who Shepard was apparently acquainted with had appeared. Shepard called her Denali, the two speaking quietly for a few minutes. There was a closeness between them that suggested they were friends, but the asari looked slightly disturbed, and Shepard had grown quiet and sober as they returned to the ship.

Miranda had wanted to speak to him, but Jacob had avoided her for the moment. When Chakwas had given him the report on Garrus, he'd actually taken it to Shepard himself rather than face off with Miranda. On the surface, she would want a report on Shepard's reactions, something to give her an idea of how the commander's brain was working. That, Jacob was sure, was simply a means to cover up the fact Miranda…and the Illusive Man…were not happy that a turian had shifted the balance of things on the ship.

* * *

" _I never thought in a million years that I'd be alive while she was dead," Howard said. He was sober this time around, but he didn't look any better for it. He was staring down at the tabletop morosely. He shook his head. "If I was going to lay odds on who would still be around after a goddamned apocalypse, I would have bet on her."_

_Garrus said nothing. He didn't need to; he knew exactly what Howard was talking about._

" _At the very least, it's not fair her father outlasted her. I wish she'd gotten a chance to put that bastard in the ground before she went out," Howard growled. "You probably don't know what I'm talking about but he's a bad one, her father. I don't know how she came from him. Gave her his looks, but Mirette gave her everything inside, believe you me."_

_Garrus nodded. "I know he was behind that slaving ring she killed all those men for. The murders she turned herself in for on Earth."_

_Howard gave him a surprised look. "She told you that?"_

" _Not long after that man from Akuze killed himself. The other survivor. Toombs. She didn't tell me outright, I kind of figured out she had a connection to a man named Benjamin Creed and asked her about it…"_

_Howard chuckled despite himself. "Bet she liked that."_

" _She was calm about it. It came up because I was helping her figure out how Major Baker had found out about him." Howard growled even more at the name. "That was when she told me about her father and I told her about Saleon."_

" _Well, how about that." Howard cocked his head. "That makes you the whopping second person she's been willing to talk to about it. She must have found you very trustworthy, boyo. Usually, that subject is closed behind a door with red tape and alarms and a big sign that says 'KEEP OUT'."_

" _She had no reason not to trust me," Garrus said with some indignation. "I would never have betrayed her."_

_Howard had an odd, thoughtful look on his face. "No, you wouldn't have, would you?"_

Garrus came awake slowly, flinching as bright light pierced his vision. He dimly heard something shuffling off to the side of him and tensed, automatically groping around for his rifle.

"Garrus." A hand gently stilled his, fingers touching his wrist.

He had a moment to register that he knew that voice before his mind cleared and a flood of memories swept through him. He remembered everything, his team, the siege on his base. He remembered swearing inwardly as he realized Tarak was firing up a rocket about two seconds before it hit him.

_Shepard._

He tried to sit up and a hand pressed against his chest, pushing him back. "Garrus, relax, you're safe."

He blinked up at the woman checking him over. "Dr. Chakwas?"

She gave him that quiet smile of hers. "Hello, Garrus. You had us all worried."

He looked around, half expecting to find himself in the infirmary of the Normandy. But other than Dr. Chakwas, he didn't see anything familiar about his surroundings. "Where…?"

"You are on the Normandy SR-2," Dr. Chakwas said, checking his pupils. She nodded approvingly. "You're lucky, there aren't many who can say they survived a hit by a rocket."

That explained why one side of his face was numb. He touched it gingerly and felt a bandage taking up most of it. Chakwas was watching him soberly. She shook her head when he looked at her. "It took surgery and some cybernetics to fix you up, particularly for your hearing."

She had that patented 'I'm glossing over things because there's something bad you don't need to know right now' tone doctors of all species seemed to know. It didn't take much thinking to guess what that might be. "Got a mirror?"

"No." Dr. Chakwas' voice had a note of coolness. "And you don't need one for the moment."

He didn't argue with her. He knew better. Besides, confirming that getting shot down by Tarak's gunship had, in fact, happened meant that the rest of it had happened too. "She was there…" he said softly, looking around as if Shepard would magically appear.

Chakwas didn't need to ask what he meant. "Commander Shepard is alive, Garrus," she confirmed, her voice quiet.

"How?" He breathed it. The shock of it was catching up to him now. Before, he had pushed it back, focusing everything on surviving.

"I've been over everything Cerberus did and I still can't tell you for certain how they managed to bring her back, but they did it."

Another shock was piled on. "Cerberus?"

"Yes. I think it's best that the Commander herself explain that part of it." Chakwas smiled a bit. "You should see her soon. She's been stopping in often enough." The doctor glanced down at her omni-tool as someone messaged her. She rose, looking down at him. "Rest, Garrus. You should make a full recovery, but don't push yourself. I'll be back in a bit."

Garrus watched her go, catching sight of his armor off to one side. As the door shut behind the doctor and silence descended in the infirmary, he sat still for a moment, letting all the new information attempt to settle in his mind. After a few moments, he firmly decided that he wasn't going to be able to rest and would therefore go crazy if he had to sit still and think over all of it. Grunting, the turian pushed himself up. He ached all over, but was able to stand with reasonable steadiness after a moment. He laid a hand on the chestpiece of his armor as he changed back into it. One side of it had a huge chunk torn out, the edges burned and ragged. He imagined that side of his face looked similar and felt a twist in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't do anything about that for the moment, so he decided not to dwell on it.

He got a lot of sideways glances as he passed through the ship, which didn't surprise him. He recognized the distinct black, white, and yellow of Cerberus but the last time he'd seen it, he'd been gunning down the people wearing them, not asking for directions.

The commander, he was told, was in the comm room. Getting there made him more and more disoriented. This ship was the Normandy…yet it wasn't. It was like looking at the old ship in a distorted mirror. It left his surroundings surreal and made him wonder if all of this wasn't some kind of fever dream. Like he was going to wake up and find himself dying back in the base on Omega.

Disturbed by that thought, he latched onto finding Shepard, his world narrowing down to that one beacon that could assure him all this was real.

He finally came upon someone familiar as he came close to where the comm room supposedly was. He heard a woman's voice talking excitedly, something about coordinates Aria had given them. When they came into view, it turned out she was talking to a dark skinned man. He remembered them both: the woman was Kasumi and the man was Jacob.

Kasumi glanced over and straightened. "Hey, it's you!"

"Tough son of a bitch." Jacob sounded surprised. "I didn't think you'd be up yet."

Not quite sure what to say, Garrus looked past them to the door beyond, then looked over at Jacob. "Is she there?"

The human wasn't surprised by the question. He nodded. "Right down the hall."

"Maybe she'll calm down now," Kasumi said, grinning as she stepped aside to let him pass. "When Tarak shot you down, I thought she was going to leap onto that gunship and rip him apart limb from limb!"

Something about the way she said it had Garrus glancing back her curiously. "Shepard has a tendency to take attacks on her crew very personally."

* * *

Shepard was pacing back and forth on the other side of the comm room when he entered, muttering to herself as she moved from one console to the other, snapping something to her omni tool. The scene was so familiar despite the unfamiliar surroundings that Garrus almost smiled. She even had her incredibly stupid VI avatar, the one she'd made personally. Herman, she called it. It was a human figure that seemed to be made up of skintight leather and lots of bushy hair. Every sound was some kind of shriek that was supposed to be music (he'd always had a hard time telling that some of the stuff Shepard listened to was supposed to be music).

She didn't notice him at first, giving him a moment to reorient himself and take her in. She wasn't dressed in a Cerberus uniform…there was probably only so far she was willing to go. She wore loose black pants and a sleeveless red shirt. Her back was half to him and the back of the shirt dipped low enough he could see the top of a tattoo he'd only gotten glimpses of.

"If it's such a popular place, why is it so hard to find information on it?" Shepard muttered, glaring down at the console.

Herman played a riff on the guitar in his hands and bowed.

"I wasn't asking you, asshole."

Garrus shifted enough to make a sound and cleared his throat quietly.

Shepard whipped around, her expression shifting rapidly from annoyance to surprise. She came swiftly around the large table that took up the center of the room. "Garrus! You're up!" She paused, frowning, then moved forward a bit more slowly. "Should you be up?" Her eyes moved across his face, taking in the bandage.

"No one would give me a mirror, how bad is it?" he said, moving into the room.

She cocked her head. "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and no one will notice."

That was so very…well, _Shepard_ that it startled a laugh out of him. He winced, realizing the painkillers were starting to wear off. "Don't make me laugh. Damn it, my face is barely holding together as it is. Some women find scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are krogan…"

He was babbling. Now that she was here in front of him, there was so much between them to say it was overwhelming. He didn't even know where to start and Shepard seemed equally at a loss. They looked at each other for a long moment, both absorbing the changes in the other. Those gray eyes still seemed able to pierce right through him and see too much. And she…she had changed too. In fact, the more he looked at her, the more obvious they became. She was paler and thinner than he remembered. Her scars were different. He was shocked to see the one on her neck and shoulder, the one she'd gotten on Akuze, seemed to have faded. It wasn't as prominent and didn't take up as much space. There were barely healed ones on her face and arms; he could clearly see thin networks of tissue coiling across her biceps and upper chest, reminding him disturbingly of wires.

Shepard shifted a bit, crossing her arms in a defensive gesture, making her appear self conscious of the scrutiny, which was not an emotion he could remember seeing in her. The silence stretched out, becoming tense and awkward. Even as she opened her mouth to speak, Garrus was already talking, addressing one of the biggest things on both their minds: "Cerberus, Shepard?"

She flinched, looking away. "It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds."

"Don't be stupid." His voice came out sharper than he'd intended, making her look at him, startled. "Dr. Chakwas said they brought you back. Obviously, it has something to do with the Reapers and probably no one else would help."

She stared at him for a moment, then retrieved a datapad and handed it to him silently. He scanned the information there and felt a quick twist in his gut. The Collectors. Of course.

"The Illusive Man says he thinks the Collectors are connected to the Reapers somehow. He said if the Reapers are afraid of anyone, it's probably me, and since I'm human, he decided to bring me back. Took two years and a lot of credits. They've been taking human colonies. The Collectors, I mean. Apparently taking them alive, which is more disturbing than if they were killing them off. "

Yes, it was. Especially if the Reapers were involved.

"I tried, Garrus." Her voice took on an edge that was almost pleading. "I went to the Council first but they didn't believe me. They think the Reapers are a myth. Even Anderson…" She stopped and shook her head, looking away. Garrus set the datapad aside silently. Obviously he'd struck a nerve. "No one else is willing to look into it. No one else wants to believe the Reapers are real. They'd rather think I'm crazy."

He knew all of it and he wished he wasn't surprised that the Council wouldn't do anything. He'd stood by, helpless, as members of the Citadel and Alliance both trashed her reputation, especially once she had died. He could have been the first to tell her not to waste her time.

"Bringing me back, a good ship, a crew, resources to fight them…" She made a helpless gesture and leaned against the table. "It's a really good bribe, Garrus. But if I'm walking into hell, I'd rather have someone I trust next to me."

It was the way she said it- that mixture of hope and the way she avoided looking at him at the same time -that finally clued him in. Did she really think he was going to just walk away from her now? The Council and Anderson must have done a number on her if her wits were dulled enough she would actually believe that. "You realize this plan has me walking into hell too? Heh, just like old times."

She glanced up at him finally. For a moment, there was a terrible vulnerability in her eyes that made him uncomfortable. Vulnerable was not a word he'd ever associated with her, not even at the worst of times. She really had been afraid he would turn away.

Leave her to fight this battle…fight the _Reapers_ …with no one but a bunch of Cerberus shills at her back? Never. Not in a thousand years. "I'm fit for duty whenever you need me, Shepard," he said firmly. Dr. Chakwas would probably argue with that quite vehemently but he thought Shepard needed to hear it. "I'll settle in the main battery and see what I can do with the guns." He half turned. "Well, once I find it…"

"I'll show you." Shepard walked up to him. Something seemed to have settled in her mind. To his relief, that vulnerable moment had passed and she was the Commander again.

As expected, Dr. Chakwas wasn't happy that he was up, but she finally consented to him leaving the infirmary with the strict promise he would check in with her every day. Or she would come looking for him. Since he knew full well what an unpleasant experience that could be, he agreed.

"She joined Cerberus?" Garrus asked as he walked around the battery slowly, exploring a little. He expected to spend a lot of time here.

Shepard was leaning against a wall, watching him. "Her and Joker and a few other Alliance members who spoke out for me. The Illusive Man probably wanted them to make sure there was someone here I wouldn't feel entirely defensive around. There's also Kasumi, Zaeed, and Mordin Solus, who you haven't met yet."

"I've heard of him."

"It's a good crew for the most part."

"But you don't trust all of them." Garrus finally moved to the console. He was impressed despite himself.

"Actually, yes. For as long as this mission lasts, we all want the same thing. Afterwards, well, we'll see. I expect most of them will put Cerberus' interests first and it'll be a matter of seeing how far apart my and the Illusive Man's interests are. Then it might be a problem."

Garrus thought she was underestimating herself in that regard, and probably The Illusive Man was too. When Udina had grounded the Normandy and Shepard stole it to go after Saren, there had been few dissenters among a crew of steadfast Alliance soldiers. After all they'd seen with her, they had been willing to take the risk. There was a reason he'd modeled his own leadership after hers. Even if he didn't have the same success as her...

"There's also people he suggested we recruit. That's how we got Mordin and Kasumi and that lot. We have one other at the moment we're heading out to get as soon as we stock up and refuel. The mess sergeant wants to know what kind of stuff you like, by the way. He asked me to tell you that as soon as you were up. We have dextro stuff, he said he had some on hand already, he figured it would be good to have on a ship run by me."

"Smart man."

She grinned. "But you should still give him a list."

"I'll do that," he said absently, absorbed in figuring out the guns.

"I'll leave you to it, then." She walked up beside him but was quiet for a long time. Garrus started to turn toward her when she finally spoke. "We had to get out of there fast, so we…we couldn't bring the bodies with us. I'm sorry we had to leave them, Garrus."

He went still, his chest tight. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet. He felt a wave of guilt flood him that for a while, he hadn't given any of them a thought. Now he was the one avoiding her gaze. He wasn't ready to face this, to talk about it out loud.

Shepard knew him too well. "You don't want to talk about it now, I know. But if you do, I'm here, Garrus." She laid a hand briefly on his shoulder and turned to leave. As she came to the doorway, she glanced back, her eyes narrowing. "By the way…you shot me."

Garrus looked back at her over his shoulder, confused for a moment. Then he remembered that crazed moment when she'd first shown up. Thank the spirits she'd been armored like a mech. "Concussive rounds only," he lied hastily. "Couldn't let the mercs get suspicious."

"Uh huh."

He turned away, glad for the lightening of the mood, making a mockingly dismissive gesture. "Okay, fine, you were moving too slow. I had to hurry you along."

"Well, that will teach me to be slow around you." She chuckled, stepping through the door and letting it close behind her before he could reply.

Garrus laid his hands on the edges of the console and leaned against it for a moment, glad for the quiet left behind in her wake. Eventually, she was going to want to know what happened, and he couldn't see a way to avoid telling her. But for the moment, he was safe, his memories and his shame in his head alone.

He was alive. He was with Shepard. He'd been given a chance to make amends as best he could. For now, that was enough.

_Sidonis._

His hands curled at the console's edges, feeling the first tendrils of rage coiling around his heart. He pulled his visor off, turning it so he could run his fingers over the names carved there.

_Erash, Monteague, Mierin, Grundan Krul, Melanis, Ripper, Sensat, Vortash, Butler, Weaver_

Garrus stared at the final name for a long time, and then searched through the battery's supplies until he found a welding tool. He carefully used it to wipe out that final name. Sidonis didn't deserve to have his name beside the others. Just seeing it next to the others was a stark reminder of the unfairness that he was still alive while the others were dead.

Eventually, he would have to tell Shepard about it…because he would need her help to fix that.


	14. Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to go on record saying Lin was a female turian mercenary with red tattoos long before I ever knew who Nyreen Kandros was.

_You'd think the fact I'm made up of more metal than flesh now would mean it's harder for me to get drunk,_ Shepard thought grumpily. She managed to roll up onto her knees, bracing a hand against the alley wall as another wave of dizziness overcame her. The new piercings in her earlobes throbbed unmercifully in time with her head. This had only happened when she got that one drink from Afterlife. That batarian bartender must have given her the really bad stuff, the four eyed bastard.

"Shepard?"

Well to _hell_ with him. _Fuck_ him. She'd downed ryncol when she was properly flesh and blood and lived to tell the tale, goddammit. Granted, she had no idea _how_ she'd managed to survive ryncol and she was never, ever, ever going to try it again, but that wasn't the _point_. She wasn't going to be taken down by some jumped up batarian's cheap swill, no fucking way.

"Shepard? Arian? What the _hell_?"

Turians had such nice voices. She'd always thought that. If caught completely off guard, she might be willing to admit there were times Garrus' voice did wonderfully bad things to her libido. She wouldn't say that when he was around, thought, even though he was fun to embarrass.

" _Shepard!"_

Rough hands hauled her to her feet. That wasn't Garrus' voice, it was female…and she knew that voice. Shepard blinked blearily up at the figure holding her up, taking in the dark red tattoos over a bronze carapace. "Lin?" She squinted until her face became less blurry. Yep, it was Lin all right. "Oh. Hey, Lin. I'm alive."

"Just barely." The mercenary narrowed dark eyes at her. "I saw you drink a krogan under the table once, what the hell did you drink to get you in _this_ state?"

"Dunno…bastard batarian gave me something…."

"Batarian? In Afterlife?" Lin's voice rose sharply.

"Yeh…"

"Was it Forvan? Shepard?" Lin dragged her fully upright and shoved her against the wall, getting right in her face. "Shepard! Answer me, damn it!"

"Forvan? Yeah, that was him…"

Lin swore and drew back. Before Shepard even realized what she was doing, the turian rammed a fist into the center of her stomach. _Hard._

Shepard slammed back into the wall and bent over, retching, automatically trying to call her biotics, but unable to think straight. Her only clear thought was shock that she could have pissed Lin off that much and then her entire system revolted and she vomited onto the ground. Lin had stepped back so she wasn't splashed and was watching her grimly.

Shepard heaved again until she was certain her stomach itself was just going to flow right out of her mouth. She knelt, panting, her face damp with sweat, and glared up at Lin. Oddly enough, her vision seemed clearer. "You think just because I'm drunk I won't kick your ass for that?"

"You're not drunk, Shepard. You've been poisoned," Lin said.

It took a moment for that to register and Shepard blinked up at her owlishly. "Poisoned?"

"That batarian poisoned your drink. One of my men lost a buddy the same way a few weeks ago."

"What the hell for?"

"You're asking me? Maybe he thinks its fun. Maybe because people let him get away with it." Lin came forward and helped her to her feet again, letting her lean against the wall. "I never thought you would have fallen for that shit…" Her voice softened a bit and Shepard looked up at her. Lin shook her head slowly. "Witch girl…you _are_ alive…"

It had been a long time since she'd heard that nickname; only Denali and Lin ever used it. "Not the way I would have wanted to meet up with you again, Lin, but thanks…" Shepard swallowed hard and rubbed her temples to soothe her spinning head. "It's like I remember all the bad times on Omega without the instincts I had to survive it the first time around. That's not fair." She rubbed her bruised stomach- Lin could probably knock a vorcha's head off with one punch -shakily pushing herself away from the wall.

When she heard a growl at the end of the alley, she had a crazy thought that it was a varren attack. Lin glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Damn, Shepard, you couldn't have left him behind?"

Shepard peered around her as Garrus came stalking up to them. She knew it was Garrus- even without the distinct bandage and the damaged armor, she would have known him anywhere –but the way he glared at Lin like he was barely holding himself back from pulling his gun on her was new. Garrus didn't lose his cool in a fight, not ever.

Of course, that had been before he'd watched an entire team he'd pulled together get slaughtered right in front of him. Which she could have prevented if she hadn't been such a fucking coward.

"What did you do to her?" he snarled, moving around Lin.

"I didn't do anything to her," Lin replied coolly. "She had a run in with Forvan."

That shut Garrus up. He looked over at Shepard. "That batarian bartender? Oh, damn, Shepard, I'm sorry. I should have warned you."

"I should have known better than to take a drink on the house from a batarian," Shepard replied. She didn't want him blaming himself for anything else. That thought brought her back to the message she'd received from Nalah Butler and reason she'd sought out a drink in the first place. She pulled her thoughts away quickly. Her limbs felt weak and she would need to see Dr. Chakwas when she got back to the ship, but for the moment she straightened herself up determinedly.

"Humans aren't popular on Omega and so far he hasn't poisoned any other species. That's probably why Aria hasn't bothered to get rid of him. _She_ finds it amusing, you can bet," Lin commented.

"Is that so?" Now that she was semi-recovered, her enhanced system working to purge the toxins out of her system, she was skipping right over pissed off into enraged. She was a half mech freak dragged back from the dead into an unfamiliar universe by an organization she despised and yet they were the only ones she could use to get the job done. She couldn't sleep for nightmares, most of them inspired by this hellhole of a place where you could get gutted and left for dead in the street without anyone so much as giving you a glance. A place that had tainted and almost taken the life of one of her closest friends, and he would never be the same for it. And to top it all off, she'd been stupid enough she'd almost allowed herself to die at the hands of a fucking batarian, the same race that had killed her mother and torn her world apart when she'd been thirteen and had set her on the path here to Omega.

It was a simple thing, really, to decide all of it was Forvan's fault.

"Oh, oh, I know that look," Lin said as Shepard pushed away from the wall and started, somewhat unsteadily, back toward Afterlife. She was eyeing Shepard carefully but didn't sound wary. Her tone was, in fact, edging into eagerness, which put Garrus on edge. He'd crossed paths with Lin more than once during his time on Omega. Shepard had spoken of her on the old Normandy and Garrus had guessed he would not like her. He was right. She'd never been a target because while she certainly exploited other people, and with gusto, her targets were generally either people with money or gang members. As Shepard had mentioned, Lin didn't exploit the weak because she found it more fun to exploit the strong and well funded. She walked a very thin line, but she did _have_ a line, which was more than could be said of the gangs. But Lin reveled in mayhem. He'd seen her orchestrate a fight that took up almost an entire floor of Afterlife. Why? Because she said she'd wanted to see what would happen.

Needless to say, the eager way she loped down the alley behind Shepard didn't settle his nerves. He'd seen that look on Shepard's face before too, but it had been aimed at an enemy.

 _How is he not an enemy?_ That cold voice in his head said. _He just tried to_ kill _her._ That thought made anger rise up in him, but it wasn't quite enough to rid him of the stab of unease. Something about all of it was off, had been off ever since he'd woken up. Shepard had changed, but he was hard pressed to describe exactly _how_ she had changed. It was little things she said or gestures she made. It was like hearing a song you knew by heart but there was one off key note somewhere in the background that kept jarring your ears at odd moments.

"I'm getting her back to the ship," he growled as he caught up with them. Shepard was much steadier now, but that didn't make him feel any better. She was striding ahead of them, locked onto Afterlife like a missile.

"I wouldn't advise getting in between her and Forvan right now," Lin said carelessly, her eyes gleaming with malicious amusement that Garrus didn't like at all. He ignored her and moved to try and catch up with Shepard. Lin shook her head. "I'm dead serious, Vakarian. She'll get it out of her system and Afterlife will be somewhat safer, what's the bad part? Forvan deserves it. I'm surprised you didn't take him out yourself."

He didn't have time to reply because they were at Afterlife. Shepard paused long enough to let them catch up and moved through the doors. Aria, perhaps because Shepard had taken the gangs down a peg and alerted her to the conspiracy against her as well, had obviously spoken to her people because no one tried to stop them as Shepard ignored the line and went in through one of the doors. The elcor bouncer didn't even spare her more than a glance before turning to deal with irate people trying to get in.

By the time they caught up with Shepard again, she was at the bar. Forvan was still behind it and even as Garrus watched, the idiot poured a drink and shoved it at Shepard where she was leaning casually on a barstool. "Have a drink. On the house." Garrus caught the smirk in his voice and the way several other patrons looked at each other and rolled their eyes or snickered at the stupid human who didn't have the brains to figure out her danger. If he'd had any thoughts on stopping Shepard, they vanished there and then.

Shepard smiled, propping an elbow on the bar and settling her chin on her hand, pushing the glass back across toward the batarian with her other hand. "Oh, no, in fact why don't you have it?"

Garrus was watching Forvan and saw the minute twitch of angry surprise before he covered it. "No drinking on duty, thanks anyway."

"I insist," Shepard said, her voice dropping into a purr. She lifted a leg and drew a small knife out of a slot in the back of her boot. Not a combat knife; one of the small, thin ones. A stiletto, Garrus recalled. Shepard always kept a couple hidden in her boot or sleeves just in case. He kept a knife or two on him all the time for the exact same reason. You could never have enough weapons. That was so ingrained into the turian mindset it was practically instinct. Shepard started cleaning under her nails with the tip of the blade. Now, Forvan was uneasy, and so were several other patrons. "Come now, if this isn't your particular…ah, _poison_ …I'm sure you can find another. Apparently you have several back there, isn't that right?"

She pitched her voice enough even patrons who had not been paying attention were listening now. It was apparent some of them had not been aware of Forvan's habit because some of them were staring at him suspiciously. Shepard ignored them, studying her nails casually and gesturing with the knife. "Drink up, now."

"Look, human…" Forvan started to growl. Garrus saw the way he shifted ever so slightly to make it easier to slide his hand down to the pistol at his belt. He went for his own gun but before either he or the batarian could move, there was a buzz of dark energy and the knife was suddenly hovering mere centimeters away from Forvan's right upper eye. The bartender froze, all four eyes wide. Shepard was leaning against the bar again, and there wasn't a hint of a smile on her face or in her eyes now. "Lin, would you kindly take that pistol off him? He won't be needing it."

Lin chortled and knelt on one of the barstools, stretching an arm out and grabbing the pistol. She handed to Shepard, who pointed it at Forvan. A couple of batarians among the patrons moved forward as if to interfere and Lin flicked a claw at them in warning, shaking her head. Garrus only gave them a glance, moving so he was at Shepard's back, a gun out and at his side, sweeping the crowd with a warning look. Besides the batarians, who backed off, it was obvious no one else was going to come to Forvan's aid. They only had to take one look at Shepard's face to realize even if they got past Garrus, they didn't want to deal with her.

There were always other bartenders.

Shepard laid the gun on the bar long enough to withdraw a cigarette case and light one, still holding the knife without any apparent effort. When Forvan twitched, the knife jerked with him, making him freeze again. She held the cigarette in one hand and picked the pistol back up with the other.

Of the four biotics that had been on the first Normandy, Shepard had been the weakest power-wise. She couldn't do the kinds of things Kaidan could and certainly she wasn't as adept with them as Liara, but she was remarkably precise with her biotics. She couldn't create a singularity but Garrus had seen her flick a knife across a room and bury it in an enemy's chest without laying a finger on it. Garrus didn't have any doubt she could inch that blade in until it took Forvan's eye out.

The only sound around the bar was the pounding of Afterlife's music and the sounds of people on other levels, oblivious to the drama unfolding below. Shepard studied Forvan, blowing out a stream of smoke. She gestured with the cigarette. "All right, then. You don't have to drink. Just decide: top or bottom?"

"What?" Forvan glanced at her, struggling to hide his fear. He shot a desperate glance around but came to the same conclusion Garrus had: no one was going to help him.

"I'm going to take two of your eyes, Forvan," Shepard said, her voice matter-of-fact. "And then maybe I'll heat up the knife and use it to cauterize your eye sockets. Would that make you equivalent to a human?"

The batarian looked at her with horror and she gave him a lazy smile. "Shall I take the top or the bottom ones? I can also take one of each, if you prefer."

For batarians, who marked themselves superior over the rest of the two eyed races of the galaxy, that was an exquisitely cruel choice. Their entire language was built around the eyes, it was what made it so hard for other races to truly deal with batarians, even out here in the Terminus Systems.

"No…" Forvan said, his voice hoarse.

Shepard cocked her head and pushed the poisoned drink toward him. The crowd looked from her to Forvan now, almost as mesmerized as Garrus. Shepard's gray eyes were cold and hard, tunnels into the steel trap of a mind behind them. Razor edged charisma, Garrus thought dimly. That was what Kaidan called it once. It was that sheer, unrelenting force of her personality that drew people to her, made them believe in her even in the craziest of situations…or scared the hell out of enemies trying to face her down.

Forvan moved, lashing out with a hand. What he was trying to do, Garrus didn't know, but it didn't matter. Shepard dropped the cigarette and caught his wrist, yanking him forward. She grabbed the knife out of the air and rammed the fist wrapped around the handle into his throat hard enough he gagged.

Shepard caught his chin as he stumbled back and stabbed the blade into his right upper eye.

Forvan could only let out a thin wail as she carved it out of the socket with such sickening ease, Garrus had a flash of certainty it wasn't the first time she'd done it. It came free with a wet pop, glistening on the end of the blade. She slammed the batarian's head onto the bar with a crack, hurrying him along with another buzz of dark energy, and flicked the eye off the end of the knife to the floor casually. The crowd actually surged back to get away from it and there were more than a few pale faces and wide eyes among them now. Even Lin, who was still standing between her and the crowd in case anyone got it in their heads to interfere, was unnaturally solemn. But she didn't look surprised, which somehow made it worse.

Forvan moaned, blood bubbling past his lips and dribbling down his face from the eye socket. Shepard tapped the knife beneath his left upper eye, and then pushed the glass toward him. This time, he took hold of it and brought it to his mouth almost mechanically, his remaining eyes glassy with shock. It took him some effort to swallow with his damaged throat but he managed it. Probably just as well. If he spilled any, Shepard probably would have simply poured more into his mouth until he swallowed enough to kill him.

It didn't take long. He swayed, swallowing convulsively. More blood spat from his mouth and he collapsed behind the bar, his body starting to quake. Shepard peered over and watched him. From the moment she'd grabbed him, her face and eyes had not changed expression at all and they didn't change now either. She watched him die without a hint of real interest, using a bar napkin to clean her knife off. The crowd let out a breath, almost a sigh. Apparently certain he was dead now, Shepard swung off the bar and onto the floor, leaning down to tuck her knife back into her boot.

The crowd was already starting to scatter. There were a few mutters about how they had to go all the way across the room until they cleaned up the mess and got a new bartender there, but no one made a move against Shepard, shifting to allow her to pass as she walked out. Lin smirked at the bar and followed, strolling out with an air of a woman who was thoroughly satisfied with the night's entertainment.

Garrus followed a bit behind to give himself time to reorganize his thoughts, holstering his pistol, his eyes on Shepard's back. He didn't know this woman. Shepard was hell to piss off, but he would never have marked her as cruel, someone who got enjoyment out of pain.

"Nice to know the Witch hasn't lost her touch," Lin commented.

Shepard glanced back to her and her eyes met Garrus' for a brief moment. Whatever she saw there made the coldness vanish from hers. She visibly flinched and looked away quickly, hunching her shoulders.

"I have to get back to my ship, but I'm glad you're back, Arian. Message me the details when you get the chance, eh? I bet it's a hell of a story."

"You could say that," Shepard muttered. She kept walking, giving a little wave over her shoulder.

For some reason, Lin's tone of voice and the way she nodded irked Garrus, finally making him stir. He glared at Lin as she started to turn away. Before he could speak, she paused and nailed him with a cool, neutral look. "I'll make you a deal, Archangel, you keep your mouth shut and in return, I won't let Shepard in on what your behavior would mean if she was a turian."

For the second time that night, she managed to take him aback with a few words. He felt a flush creep up his neck as what she was implying became clear. Lin snorted and turned away, tossing over her shoulder: "You might actually be her type if you learn to loosen up a little."

* * *

It was a few days before Shepard sought Garrus out again. In truth, he wasn't sorry she didn't speak to him. He was still rocked by the changes in her and wasn't quite sure what to think about it. Shepard seemed more subdued as they left Omega, absorbing herself completely in the details of the mission. They were, he learned, heading to the prison ship known as Purgatory to pick up yet another potential squad mate. Why they were going for someone in a prison like that was a mystery to Garrus until Kasumi Goto had shown him the dossier. A hugely powerful human biotic. In a prison. Well, then.

He glanced over his shoulder as the doors swished open. Shepard moved up to him. "Hey, Garrus. Got a moment?"

He didn't look up, finding himself strangely jumpy at being alone with her. "Can it wait? I'm in the middle of some calibrations." Which was true enough, and a fully legitimate excuse.

"Actually, this is kind of about that."

That got his attention. He finally looked at her. She had moved away and was sitting on a crate, looking up at him, maybe sensing he wanted some distance. She gestured toward the console. "I was going over everything on the ship. It's got good systems, but there's a few things I want done before we take the Collectors on. Including the guns. You think you can look into that for me?"

Now this was something he knew exactly how to deal with. "I'll scout around and see what I can find. Was that what you and Lawson were…uh…discussing?" He'd learned pretty quick that Miranda Lawson was not going to be his favorite person on the ship. Talk about having a stick up your ass.

"You mean arguing. No, she made some noise about funds and such, but between what funds Cerberus has for us and what we can pull in on the side, we should be able to upgrade everything I want upgraded without too much trouble."

"You never had a problem doing it before."

"Yeah, I wonder if Saren ever realized how much he funded our ship and munitions upgrades back on the old Normandy between foraging and stealing from his men and his bases."

"Stealing from your enemies is a time honored tradition across species, Commander. Just ask Tarak." He didn't think about it, wincing when he brought it up, his hand moving to brush the edge of his bandage. With the doses of antibiotics and painkillers Dr. Chakwas was giving him, the pain was reduced to a low throb most of the time, but it was still enough to be a bad reminder.

"Used the gangs' own money to fund attacks on them, did you?" Shepard said.

"We weren't out to get rich, but yes."

"How delightful." She meant it too, the tone of her voice approving.

Garrus relaxed just a bit. _This_ was his commander. If she wasn't going to bring up what had happened on Omega, he was more than willing to leave it silent between them for the moment. Maybe forever.

"Why'd you go to that hellhole, Garrus?" She was looking up at him again, her expression serious now.

He looked over at her. "Because it's filled with criminals nobody else can touch, and no red tape to slow me down. People needed something to believe in. Someone to stand up to the local thugs."

"Obviously enough people to form a squad agreed with you."

"You know how it works, Shepard. Show people you can get the job done and they join up. You know Omega. It's full of thugs kicking the helpless. I formed my team to kick back." He gripped the side of the console, staring down at it, unable to look at her while he was talking about them. But once he'd started, he didn't seem able to stop. Shepard did that to him. She always had. He'd spoken more freely to her than he had with anyone he'd ever known. "Twelve of us, including me. Former military operatives. C-sec agents. Mercs who wanted to atone. Security consultants tired of playing by the rules. Had a salarian explosives expert I'm pretty sure was a former Special Tasks Group agent."

He'd glanced over at her and so caught the way she stared at him, blinking for a moment, an odd look on her face. "STG like Mordin and those guys…on Virmire. That lieutenant that rigged the bomb…"

She sounded so confused. "He was a captain, actually. Captain Kirrahe."

"Yes." Shepard rubbed her temples, closing her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath. "I…I'm sorry, Garrus. There's still these little chunks of memory here and there that are missing until someone brings it up. So, you didn't have just turians on the squad, I take it?" She spoke in a rush as if to cut off any questions.

He studied her, troubled, but let it go. "Yes. We were a mixed group. My tech expert was a batarian, believe it or not. Not the friendliest guy, but he could hack any system ever built."

"You guys started out hitting their supply lines and deliveries? I know you went after Tarak and Garm, because you told me."

"That was later when we had better resources. First we got under their skin, disrupted activities and hit shipments. Made them angry."

"I did notice."

"Well, yes, all three gangs banded together to take me down. My manager at C-sec would be proud."

"I know I was."

That managed to get a bit of a smile from him. "No civilian casualties. That was the rule. You should have seen some of those gang members, Shepard. I would have whacked a squad member upside the head for charging blindly into a kill zone the way some of them did. So would you. And they did it over and over. Crossfire and snipers, clean and surgical. They never stood a chance. It was giving the violence back to the gangs in a way they'd thought no one else would be able to and the fact it was just a group of twelve pissed the gangs off even more. They were good men. I gave them hope." He clung to that truth, even through the pain.

"Considering how little of that there is in Omega, that's something of a miracle in and of itself," Shepard said quietly.

He appreciated that, even if he didn't deserve it. "But now they're dead."

She leaned back against the wall, not asking directly but waiting to see if he was going to tell her. Since everything else was out, he figured he might as well. "It was my own damn fault. One of my people betrayed me. A turian named Sidonis. He drew me away before the mercs attacked, asked for my help on a job, but when I got there, I couldn't find him. By the time I got back to the hideout, the mercs had killed all but two of my squad. And they didn't last long."

Her breath came out in a rush. "Ah, Garrus…"

His hands tightened into fists. "Everyone except me is dead because of him. And because I didn't see it coming." That list of names, in his head and carved into his visor. He still hadn't managed to pick up Sidonis' trail. But he would.

He realized Shepard had fallen silent and turned to look at her. Her eyes were closed, her brows drawn together in an expression Garrus would have called pain. She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. When she finally spoke, her voice was low: "I could have come for you sooner. I should have come for you sooner. We were out there for weeks doing other stuff because I wasn't ready to go back there. I didn't want to face Omega again."

He knew that berating tone she was aiming at herself all too well, he'd been using it enough lately. There was a tremor in her voice he'd never heard before. "Shepard…"

"If we were there, we could have helped you. I'm so sorry, Garrus."

"It's not your fault, Shepard. Although you probably would have taken one look at Sidonis and known he was a traitor, since I sure as hell didn't figure it out."

"If you're to blame for it, so am I." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "And you are blaming yourself, Vakarian. Not just for Sidonis, for all of it. I know you too well." Her gaze softened. She looked tired and haunted, another feeling he could understand perfectly. "You couldn't have known."

"I should have."

"Garrus." She rose to her feet, moving forward until she was only a couple feet away. "There is no way you could have known."

Her tone was firm, unyielding. Absolutely certain. Once, he would have believed her without a shadow of a doubt. But so much, including both of them, had changed. He didn't believe it, no matter how much he wanted to. When that call from Sidonis had come, he hadn't doubted for a second it was genuine. He hadn't had a clue right up until that horrible moment when he figured out what must have happened that Sidonis was capable of betraying them like that. He couldn't believe there had been no sign he could have picked up on. Maybe she might have been able to help if she'd gotten there sooner, but that didn't change the fact it was his negligence that allowed it to happen in the first place.

He started to turn away and Shepard caught his arm gently. "Shattered, Garrus. That's what that pain is. It doesn't let you think clearly. Something like this breaks you apart. You pull yourself back together eventually, but you're never quite the same. Never quite…whole. But you'll live with it. And you'll see."

That was the most melodramatic thing he'd ever heard her say and it fit so perfectly with how he felt, it shook him. He met her gaze for the first time since they'd come back to the ship. "And no place in the galaxy breaks you better than Omega," she added.

He had to step back. Not because he didn't understand her, but because he understood her entirely too well in that moment. There was an entire history in her eyes, her voice. The rage, the pain, it echoed from her to him and back again, resonating.

Just thinking about Sidonis gave him a focus for all of that in him and in that moment, he understood perfectly why she had focused on Forvan.

He pulled free of her grasp gently and turned back to the console. "Thanks for coming by, Shepard. I've got some things to take care of."

Shepard let him go. "Just think about it. Please?"

Garrus nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wasn't sure if he was more relieved or disappointed when she left without another word.


	15. Prison Break

Purgatory was wreaking havoc on her hearing, amplifying certain sounds even worse than it had on the Citadel at times. Shepard wasn't sure why, couldn't think of a rational explanation other than 'everything about Purgatory sucks'. It was full of the worst criminals around who seemed to be moonlighting as punching bags for the people who guarded them. It made her own short stint in prison seem like a vacation.

It was rather unfair that they had finally left Omega behind only to end up on a ship that resembled it to an eerie degree.

She rubbed the side of her head, gazing about thoughtfully as they moved toward the maximum security ward. The warden, Kuril, had given them specific instructions on how to get there before disappearing to wait for Cerberus' credits to come through. "Garrus?"

"Yes, Commander?"

She kept her voice pitched low and her expression pleasant. "I do believe that man is planning to fuck us over."

"You too?"

"Bare-faced."

"You remembered," Garrus said with a hint of amusement. Turians with no markings, like Kuril- and Saren for that matter -were often regarded with suspicion. The term 'bare-faced', as a matter of fact, was slang among turians to describe someone untrustworthy or sly. His amusement faded and he moved so he could speak to her without being overheard. "What do you want to do?"

"Kill the bastard," Grunt volunteered from behind them.

"Oh, we probably will, but let's see if we can't get a hold of Jack first."

Shepard had fully intended to leave Purgatory in the same state as she had left it, she really had. But once the Warden came over the intercom and (to she and Garrus' complete lack of surprise) commended them all for being terribly valuable, far too valuable to let go, things just kind of went downhill from there.

To be perfectly fair, Shepard wasn't the one that started blowing things up this time around. That was all Jack. True, Shepard had been the one that overrode security and let Jack out of cryostasis- along with every other convict in the cellblock but she didn't consider that entirely her fault because what kind of a moron programmed the security that way anyway- but it wasn't like she _made_ the adorable little nutcase go crazy and start tearing through the prison.

Grunt hooted with delight as the top half of one of the YMIR mechs that had pulled the cryopod up slammed against the observation window hard enough to leave it wedged halfway through the window in a spiderweb of cracks. Shepard regarded it for a long moment, bemused, and activated her tech armor. "Well, at least she left us a nice swatch of destruction to follow."

Garrus just sighed.

While Shepard didn't approve of beating up prisoners for the hell of it, had even put a stop to a beating on the way up, she couldn't find it in her heart to get riled up by the fact Warden Kuril was selling off prisoners on the side. Trying to sell her and her squad, on the other hand, she had a problem with. Big time. To top it all off, when they came across him, he had the fucking nerve to be behind a shield where she couldn't shoot him. In Shepard's rules of order, that was cheating. Scowling, Shepard dropped behind a crate and scanned the room. Kuril was shouting something about regaining Jack and how all of it was for the good of the galaxy or something but she wasn't really paying attention. The amount of gunfire echoing through the prison as they'd fought guard and prisoner alike were echoing through her skull and she had the throbbing beginnings of a massive headache. This would not do. She'd get it looked at even if it meant spending a night or two in the medbay, which she detested. At this rate, every time she came back from a fight she was going to be crippled by a migraine the same way poor Kaidan had been when he overused his biotics back in the day.

Garrus, crouched beside her, nudged her with his elbow and nodded toward arcs of energy coming from several generators around the room, obviously powering the damend shield. She glanced over as several of Kuril's mercs spotted them. "Grunt? If you please."

The krogan grinned and rushed to meet the oncoming mercs, who made the mistake of hesitating for a split second they couldn't afford before the young krogan crashed down on them. Garrus rose and moved around the crates, unloading on one of the generators while Shepard used biotics to take down the other two. It was, perhaps, not as impressive a display of biotic power as Jack's rampage through the prison, but it got the job done. It also didn't do her headache any good.

She motioned for Garrus to flank Kuril. He was looking at the other turian with a fixed intensity that did not bode well for the warden. Maybe he was still feeling a bit of aggression toward the Blue Suns, which he certainly couldn't be faulted for. Kuril was yelling something again, focused on her and Garrus, which was perfect since he didn't see Grunt bounding up to join them until he started firing.

He actually flipped over the rail and fell off the platform he'd been standing on when he died. Shepard thought that was nicely dramatic.

* * *

Jack had reached the airlock by the time they caught up with her. She was glaring out through the windows at the Normandy and…snarling was the best word Shepard could think of to describe it. She noted coolly that Jack's obviously volatile temper also distracted her because she didn't show any sign of noticing the guard sneaking up on her until Shepard gunned him down.

Jack spun toward them and Shepard got a good look at her for the first time. She blinked, startled. Hell, she was just a _kid_. If she was old enough to get a drink legally, it couldn't have been by many years. Shepard also noted that the girl was sheathed in tattoos bared proudly for everyone's eyes by a leather harness of some sort that covered the bare essentials and little else. She had to wonder if it chafed.

Jack took a step back, eyes narrowed. "What the hell do you want?"

A series of replies passed through Shepard's head before an explosion somewhere in the complex informed her that it probably wasn't a good idea to say any of them. "To get out of here, care to tag along?"

Jack snorted. "Shit, you sound like a pussy."

_Arrogant kid with superpowers, oh, joy of joys,_ Shepard thought, suppressing a sigh.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. You're Cerberus," Jack continued. Shepard managed not to flinch at that, aware there was nothing she could say that would convince Jack otherwise. She uttered the name with so much hatred echoing in her voice Shepard made a mental note to ask Miranda exactly why in the hell that might be and why she hadn't been told about it. "You show up in a Cerberus frigate to take me somewhere. You think I'm stupid?"

"Oh, no." Shepard's voice was quiet. "No, indeed, my dear. I have a distinct feeling assuming you're stupid is a mistake no one gets to make twice." Another explosion rocked the ship. "But the fact remains that this ship is going down in flames and mine is not. Incidentally, we came looking for you because we could use your help."

"Shoot her and patch her up on the ship, Shepard," Grunt rumbled from behind her.

Jack's eyes flashed. "I'd like to see you try."

"Grunt, that's no way to start a business relationship," Shepard said at the same time.

Jack's eyes flicked to Shepard's for a moment. There was arrogance, yes, and it was quite clear Jack wasn't used to backing down. Even knowing she had little options besides going with Shepard, she wasn't ready to give in. Not bravado, either, Shepard thought, fascinated despite herself. She had the feeling Jack would literally rather die than give in, particularly to someone from Cerberus. That…was very interesting.

Sly calculation flashed across the younger woman's face. "Look, you want me to come with you, make it worth my while."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I bet your ship's got lots of Cerberus databases. I want to look at those files. See what Cerberus has got on me," Jack said. "You want me on your team, let me go through those databases."

Oh, Miranda wasn't going to like that at _all_. "Deal," Shepard said without missing a beat.

The easy agreement seemed to startle Jack for a moment before she hid it. "You better be straight with me."

"As straight as I am with anybody."

Garrus made a small noise, almost a snicker, behind her. Jack eyed her suspiciously for a moment. Another explosion shook the ship, this one sending a rumble through it that rattled the walls and seemed to roll beneath their feet. Jack turned away. "Well, what the hell are we standing around for?"

* * *

Shepard had taken Jack to the comm room to get the files she wanted pretty much right after they'd gotten on the ship. Miranda, using that bloody annoying sixth sense of hers, was waiting for them there.

There was, Shepard thought as Miranda studied Jack with the same expression she did with her other subordinates on the ship, a limit to Miranda's leadership abilities. She was a good one, of that Shepard had no doubt. She'd observed enough to know only the best of the best in Cerberus answered directly to the Illusive Man, so the woman was no slouch. But she treated everyone exactly the same way, which was fine in a military setting or a paramilitary setting like Cerberus, but it wasn't going to work with the team they were pulling together with this mission. Shepard had figured that one out the moment she'd flipped through the dossiers. Miranda, it seemed, wasn't picking up on it quite so fast.

"Welcome to the Normandy, Jack. I'm Miranda, Shepard's second-in-command. On this ship, we follow orders."

That, for instance, was exactly the wrong way to introduce herself to Jack.

Jack looked bored. "Tell the Cerberus cheerleader to back off, Shepard. I'm here because of our deal."

Shepard moved to one of the consoles.

"What deal?" Miranda turned narrowed eyes to Shepard.

"It seems Jack here has a history with Cerberus." Shepard watched Miranda carefully for a sign of reaction. She thought she saw something in Miranda's expression but wasn't sure. "Her price was access to the system and its databases."

Miranda's eyes widened with outrage. "Shepard, you don't have that kind of authorization!"

Shepard proved her wrong a moment later as she motioned for Jack to take a look at the console, setting it up so she could access it. Shepard shrugged. "If she doesn't get it straight from the system, she'll probably get to it through Kasumi." Who probably had a lot more on Cerberus than the databases on the ship, though Shepard kept that to herself.

Jack smirked at Miranda. "Hear that, precious? We're going to be friends. You, me, and every embarrassing little secret." Her expression hardened as she looked over at Shepard. "I'll be reading down in the hold or somewhere near the bottom. I don't like a lot of through traffic." She headed for the door. "Keep your people off me. Better that way."

Shepard ignored Miranda's glare and chuckled helplessly as she rubbed her temples to ease her headache. "You're going to be a pain in the ass, Jack."

* * *

Garrus had never been up to Shepard's personal quarters, which took up the top part of the ship. He wasn't surprised as he stepped off the elevator to see the door was open, though he paused when he noted that the lights were off. The lights were above her desk, various blinking lights here and there from different machinery, and a blue glow cast by two odd square tanks of water embedded in the walls. Garrus paused at the top of the steps leading down from the office to the room, studying them in puzzlement.

"Fish tank." Shepard's voice startled him. She was seated on a curved couch along the wall directly across from the tanks, her face and the lower half of her body shadowed.

Garrus looked from her to the tanks in the wall. "No fish."

"I know. I don't like fish. They're creepy. I like watching the water though. Maybe I'll get little mechanical spinny things that go up and down instead, just to make use of the thing."

Garrus had no idea what she was talking about, so he let it go, moving until he could actually see her, noting with concern how tired she looked. She indicated the couch beside her in a silent invitation to sit. She looked tired, he noted with concern. "Like back in my apartment on the Citadel. I don't have any dextro liquor on me at the moment, sorry," she said wryly.

"Or drawings on the walls," Garrus said, glancing around. That was something that had caught his attention immediately. Both her office and her apartment had sketches on the walls of the dreams she'd had from the Prothean beacon. Ashley Williams had never understood why she wanted those images there, which Garrus had never understood, as it seemed obvious to him. So she wouldn't lose sight of what they were really fighting for…and against. He found the bare walls slightly disturbing.

Shepard was silent for a long time. When she spoke, her voice was pained. "I tried to do some sketches, but it wouldn't come to me. I can remember the basics, but it was like I couldn't transfer it to the paper."

That shook Garrus in a way nothing she'd spoken of had before, because those little sketches she did seemed such an intricate part of his memories of her. Not just the Reaper ones, but the little ones she would do during downtime. He vividly recalled catching her drawing a little doodle of then-Ambassador Udina in an outfit he would have been most upset to see himself in, even on paper.

She sighed and waved a hand. "Well, I'll keep at it. Hopefully it'll improve faster than my gunwork. Sorry, Garrus, I lapsed into crazy again for a second."

"For a second?"

She gave him a dry look, though there was genuine humor in her eyes. "Did you come up here to question my sanity or did you need something, Vakarian?"

Actually, he'd come up to give her back her St. Jude medal, but found himself reluctant to part with it. Each time he'd resolved to return it, he'd backed out at the last minute and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. It was like it had been a lifeline for him, he wasn't sure if he could deal with letting it go. Instead, he found himself saying: "This is an…interesting group."

"Two Cerberus employees, a mercenary, a thief, a tank bred krogan, a crazy biotic, and a former STG member. Who, I found out recently, led a team of salarians to Tuchanka to implant a new version of the genophage when they discovered the krogan were overcoming the original one naturally."

Garrus stared at her. Shepard nodded. "I'm going to just sit back and hope Grunt never gets a hold of that little tidbit of information. He dislikes Mordin enough just on general principle." She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "And you, of course. So, yes, interesting is a word for it. I looked for you guys when I first woke up. All of you. Found Tali but she wasn't interested in joining up again. Not with Cerberus. I have no idea where Kaidan is, Wrex is probably ruling Tuchanka with an iron fist, and Liara…I don't know. She's an information broker."

"I knew she'd headed to Ilium, I didn't know she'd become an information broker."

"There's still Chakwas. And Joker." She twisted her fingers together, looking down at them. "Howard is dead."

Garrus couldn't keep the sadness out of his voice. "I know." This time around, the flash of vulnerability from her didn't discomfit him. It brought into perspective what it must have been like to suddenly wake up and find everything she'd known gone or changed. He finally reached into the hidden pocket in his armor and pulled her St. Jude medal out, holding it out to her. It was all he could do.

She looked at it for a moment, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. Then her eyes widened in shock as she took hold of it and flipped it over to read the inscription on the back. "This…Garrus, how?"

"An old man claimed he got it from a group auctioning off a bunch of your stuff. How they got it, I have no idea, Shepard. I'm sorry. I tried to find out, but I got nowhere."

"And you kept it," she murmured with wonder.

"The patron saint of lost causes seemed like he'd be a fitting companion. Especially in those last hours." Before she'd shown up. It did seem like a miracle worthy of a saint now that he thought about it.

Shepard stared at the medal for a long time. To his shock, she pressed it back into his hand. "Well, if he kept you alive under those circumstances, here's hoping he can keep you alive from now on too."

"Shepard, I can't…"

She folded his fingers around the medal, raising her eyes to meet his. "I need you, Garrus. More than any memory, I need you alive." Her lips curved into a crooked smile when he kept a hold of the medal. "It didn't do so hot a job keeping me alive the first time around, let's see if it does a better job for you."


	16. New Citadel Tales

**AN:** So...yeah. I'm VERY sorry it's taken me so long to update. I had a bout of ill health for a bit and then just life in general was kicking my ass. I plan on updating properly from now on!

* * *

Dr. Chakwas leaned back and nodded, a rare smile gracing the stern features of her face. "You're looking good, Shepard. Putting on weight and building up muscle. If you stay good with exercise and nutrition, you should be back to peak physical condition soon enough."

Shepard shrugged her shirt back on and fastened it, rotating her left shoulder and wincing when she felt a slight ping there. Chakwas noticed and ran a hand over that shoulder, frowning. "Those pains haven't gotten any better?"

"No, but they haven't gotten any worse either, I promise. That shoulder's always been my bad one since Akuze."

"Yes…I remember it gave you trouble occasionally back in the day." Chakwas frowned again. "But reinforcing your skeleton should have taken care of that. There's no problem with the bone that I can see. We'll keep an eye on it and you let me know if the pains get worse."

Shepard nodded and headed out of the med bay as Joker announced they were coming into the Citadel. She bit back a sigh as she saw Miranda coming toward her with a tight expression she knew all too well. Her XO had been running hot and cold ever since they'd brought Jack aboard. Shepard didn't know what Miranda had been expecting, but Jack clearly wasn't it. The description of Jack as the most powerful human biotic in the galaxy was not an exaggeration. The girl could do shit with her biotics that Shepard had never seen in a human and had seen in only a handful of asari. But whatever had been done to her to achieve that power had come with a price.

Subject Zero; that was how Jack had been described in the Illusive Man's dossier. Shepard hadn't liked that impersonal label when she'd first read it and she liked it even less now, which was nothing compared to how Jack reacted to it. Miranda, showing either a rare moment of stupidity or a moment of sheer pique, had made the mistake of calling Jack that to her face. Jacob had barely managed to swing her out of the way as Shepard stepped between the other biotic and her XO. Jack claimed that Cerberus had made her into what she was, and Shepard believed her. It seemed the exact kind of thing Cerberus would do, and the fact Miranda refused to talk about it only added to her suspicions. Miranda's dislike of Jack wasn't just because of Jack's hatred of Cerberus or a conflict of personality, Shepard was sure. There was something else that ran beneath it, even if Miranda wouldn't admit it. She'd been tempted to either demand an in depth explanation from Miranda or to hack into the files the same way Jack was, but in the end, she'd decided against both. She'd do what had worked so well for her in the past: wait and watch carefully. So far, there hadn't been anymore altercations between the two, which was good enough for the moment.

"Joker says you're giving shore leave once we reach the Citadel," Miranda said without preamble.

Shepard didn't slow her walk and Miranda fell into step beside her. "That would be correct."

"Including our…newest recruit?" Miranda's lips curved in the slightest of sneers.

"If she so desires."

"Do you think that wise, Commander? She has several outstanding warrants for her arrest."

"Not on the Citadel. I checked."

"Even so, given her mental state, are you sure it's wise to allow her out?" Miranda persisted. "We don't need her drawing undue attention to us."

"If the Illusive Man is worried about drawing attention, he shouldn't have plastered Cerberus labels all over the ship." She saw Miranda stiffen. "I have faith she's not going to bring the whole of C-sec down on us, Miranda."

"S'matter, Cheerleader, you afraid of what I might let slip if I get caught?" Shepard paused and looked around as Jack spoke, coming around a corner behind them. She looked at Shepard and Miranda coldly.

Miranda returned the look with just a little more ice added in, and then turned and walked away, her back stiff. Jack turned her gaze to Shepard. "Nice of you to stick up for me going out to play by myself," she said sarcastically.

Shepard shrugged. "I thought we had established that you're not stupid. Crazy, yes, but not stupid."

Jack narrowed her eyes. She did that a lot around Shepard. Jack didn't trust anybody and was absolutely certain anyone she met was out to get something from her. Shepard's manner either irritated her or confused the hell out of her. Or both. It was perhaps unwise to scrape at her temper, but Shepard had a distinct feeling there was more to Jack than her circumstances had formed her into. The only way she was going to see for sure that there was some substance beneath the bombast was to poke around a bit. Kind and therapeutic words weren't going to work, she knew that from experience. Besides, Kelly was scared to death of her.

She met Jack's glare with a bland look. "We can pin the ship's comm number to your tit straps if you like. Just in case you get lost."

Jack's eyes narrowed a little more. "Fuck you."

While Shepard was a fan of that particular explicative herself, she felt Jack relied entirely too much on it. She let out a long suffering sigh. "I'll get a proper insult from you eventually."

"You'll get my fucking boot up your ass, _Commander_."

"There, that's more like it." Pleased, Shepard risked turning her back on her to saunter down the hall, bracing herself in case she needed to throw up a barrier. You never knew. "Enjoy your evening, Jack. If you have to blow something up, aim for Councilor Udina's office, will you?"

* * *

Everything had changed the day of Sovereign's attack but you wouldn't know it by looking around the Citadel.

One thing you could say about Omega was the fact it didn't pretend to be anything more than it was. It didn't slick a glossy coat of civilization over itself and then pretend there wasn't any crime running beneath the surface. On the Citadel, any real attempt to crack down on it was mired in layers upon layers of bureaucracy with a nice added touch of bribery and blackmail on the side.

Most people saw the Presidium, the center of the Citadel where the Council dwelled, to be the pinnacle of civilized society. Garrus Vakarian had a rather less charitable opinion of it, especially since Shepard had told him the Council's view on the Collectors. The fact they continued to rule Citadel space from the exact point the Reapers would have come through filled him with bitter amusement.

_They'll believe in the Reapers plenty when they actually attack,_ Garrus thought as he moved down the street away from the C-sec Academy. He'd had to be very careful getting in touch with some of his old co-workers in C-sec. Executor Pallin was still in charge, and while he wouldn't have gone so far as to say there was bad blood between Pallin and himself, he didn't have any doubt his old boss wouldn't approve of what he'd been up to in the past years. He certainly wouldn't approve of him using C-sec resources, even if they were minor ones.

But he was absolutely certain Sidonis was in Citadel space somewhere. He would have tried to get out of the reach of Omega as much as possible, which meant getting out of the Terminus Systems altogether. And if you wanted to hide in Citadel space, the Citadel itself was your best starting point. He needed feelers, needed to re-establish contacts if he was ever going to get a lead on the bastard.

At least his father had retired so there wasn't a chance to crossing paths with him here. Garrus felt guilty being relieved about that, but he wasn't ready to face him or his sister yet. He'd contacted his father not long before Shepard had shown up on Omega, when he'd thought he was going to die. To apologize, mostly. To say he was sorry for trying so hard not to listen to what his father had been trying to tell him all through the years. He'd never be as by the book as Dad was, but he understood more about looking at the bigger picture now that it had been thrown back into his face so violently on Omega.

His father wanted him to come to Palaven. But his family would have questions and he wasn't quite ready to face them, wasn't ready to face the shame of how completely and utterly he had failed. He also wasn't sure how his father would react to the fact Garrus was running with Shepard again, especially since they were backed by Cerberus. He disapproved of Spectres in general and he definitely disapproved of Shepard in particular.

Garrus couldn't walk away from this. It wasn't just Shepard or the need to make up for failing his team on Omega, though they were both factors. After seeing the reports and watching the recordings of the Collector attacks, he couldn't simply turn away and pretend he hadn't seen them. It didn't matter that the only ones getting abducted were humans. He'd seen too much of what the Reapers were capable of and no one deserved that. As long as Shepard was working to take the Collectors down, he _couldn't_ just walk away and still live with himself.

His father, he thought, might understand that. Solana was a different story. His last chat with his sister had not gone well and Garrus was still stinging from it. He couldn't blame her for her anger toward him when she didn't know or understand so much about what had happened. All Solana knew was he'd run off across the galaxy- playing Spectre, she called it -leaving his family behind right when they'd needed him the most.

He'd been aware his mother was ill before he'd left for Omega but he'd had no idea how ill. Not surprising, since she'd done her absolute best to hide it from all of them until she simply couldn't anymore. It had taken several doctors to finally get a fix on what was wrong with her and the diagnosis wasn't any better than not knowing. Corpalis Syndrome was a rare degenerative disease and so far no real treatments had been found for it. Nothing was really working so far. Going to the salarian doctors was their best bet, but they were so damned expensive.

Garrus turned the problem over and over in his head, feeling pulled a dozen ways at once. He couldn't go to Shepard with this. This was personal. But there had to be something he could do. He had a well known salarian doctor on the ship; maybe Mordin Solus could give him some advice.

Restless, not quite ready to go back to the ship, he wandered toward one of the shopping areas near the edge of the Citadel, not far from the trams that would take you to Zakara Ward. He remembered Shepard was around the Presidium as well and decided to swing by a bar they both favored to see if she was there. She'd joked about heading to Chora's Den for a drink and a shootout first for old time's sake, but that particular hole had been closed down for years. In fact, he was pretty sure it had never reopened after that first memorable incident that was technically their first real mission together.

He wasn't really expecting to find her, so seeing her there made him pause for a moment. She was seated out on the deck with an older man who looked vaguely familiar. Date? Hookup? Not that it mattered, of course. He was just concerned after the incident on Omega, that was all. No matter what Lin might think. That little remark continued to irritate him. It wasn't the first time someone had implied he had too much interest in Shepard. Why, his men had ribbed him about it all the time.

Thinking about them made his heart clench and he shook that thought off. He drifted a bit closer, just out of their line of sight. As he got a good look at the man's face, recognition clicked on. That was her uncle. The one who had been married six times. Although Garrus had met his first wife and their daughter Mischa once when they had helped him on what was possibly the most interesting case of his career, he had never met Louis Shepard himself. He was a moderately wealthy resident, wealthy enough he could afford a home on the Presidium. When he'd asked Shepard how he'd gotten his money, she'd replied she found it was better to just not ask those kinds of questions.

Garrus might have moved on if he hadn't gotten a good look at Shepard's face. Whatever they were talking about, it wasn't a joyous reunion; she was clearly upset. Louis laid a hand over hers and leaned in closer, speaking quietly. Shepard nodded and the sadness and resignation in her expression was painful to see. What the hell was going on?

Louis finally rose to his feet, squeezing her hand for a moment before he left. Shepard stared down at the table for a while before rising. Garrus backed off and glanced around, wondering if there was any way he could look like he hadn't been watching when he came out.

Not a chance.

He spotted one of Avina's consoles and stepped up to it to at least give the illusion he was just coincidently there at that particular place and time. A holographic asari appeared when he activated the console. Avina was the Citadel's VI and visitor center, consoles for her found all over the Wards and Presidium. Out of curiosity, he asked how the repairs were going, wondering how much progress had been made since he had left.

_Repair of the damage from the geth attack is still ongoing,_ Avina said in her perpetually cheerful voice. _There is still extensive damage on Teyseri Ward._

"Geth attack." Shepard's voice came from behind him. "I don't suppose the term 'Reaper' is in your vocabulary at all." Garrus gritted his teeth as he glanced back at her. He hated that bitter amusement in her voice, hated even more that he could understand it.

_I have no information on a 'Reaper',_ Avina confirmed. _References to the term exist in some para-historical theories on galactic extinction cycles._

"Well, you'll be getting plenty of information on those theories soon enough."

"They're really selling that 'the geth did it' message."

They both spun to look at Kasumi Goto, who'd just appeared out of nowhere by Shepard. Shepard actually yelped and glared at the thief. "I hate it when you that!"

Kasumi just grinned. "I bet you can't even say the word 'Reapers' without inciting a panic." Looking excited at the prospect, she spun to face the bar and the people outside on the deck. She threw her hands out dramatically. "Reapers!" Her voice carried enough she got some puzzled looks, but nothing more. "Aww."

"Fire a couple shots above their heads, that'll panic 'em," Shepard suggested.

"Please don't. C-sec tends to get irritated when you do stuff like that." Garrus shut down the Avina console.

"Some people just can't take a joke." Kasumi let out a long suffering sigh.

Shepard took hold of her shoulder and steered her away. "I'm sure you can find a much better way to occupy yourself than scaring the straights."

"Was that your uncle?" Kasumi clearly had no problems admitting she'd been spying on her.

"Yes." Shepard's voice was terse.

"I've heard of him. I kind of wanted to meet your cousin, too. I loved her new album!"

"She's freaked out by the whole coming back to life thing and pretty much convinced I'm some kind of imposter, so I doubt I'll be able to get you an autograph anytime soon."

Even Kasumi went quiet at that, not because of the anger in her voice but because of the pain running under it. Garrus looked over at Shepard, trying to think of something to say and coming up with absolutely nothing. They walked on in silence, more than a little awkward, until…

" _I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite shop on the Citadel!"_

_The hell?_ Garrus stopped and turned, tracing the sound back to some cheap shop selling tourist crap across the street.

"That's not your voice. That doesn't sound a thing like you," Kasumi said. Garrus turned back to look at Shepard. She looked deeply embarrassed but unsurprised. "Did you know about that place, Shepard?"

"I saw it the last time I was here," Shepard muttered.

"And it's still standing?" He couldn't believe it. The Shepard he'd run with before would have had the owners pissing themselves.

"It didn't seem worth the trouble," she said, not meeting his gaze, apparently well aware of how ridiculous it sounded.

"Seems worth my time," Garrus said, striding across the street toward the store.

"What are you doing? Garrus!" Shepard sounded startled.

Kasumi laughed and trotted after him. "This is going to be good!"

Garrus couldn't articulate exactly why he felt so outraged. Maybe because it was the store itself. Somehow, someone using her name to sell weapons or something useful might not have pissed him off so much as someone using to sell such utter crap. Adding to his irritation was the fact she'd known about it and had let them get away with it. That wasn't _right,_ damn it.

The store was cramped, messy shelves crammed with cheap trinkets and clothes on all sides. The man behind the counter was fat and greasy looking, glancing up from a copy of Fornax with a bored expression that changed into surprise as Garrus strode up to the counter.

Garrus paused a few steps away and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm curious, when did she record that for you?"

"What?" The man looked wary now. "What are you talking about?"

"Shepard. When exactly did she record that little ad for you?"

The man shook his head, looking baffled and annoyed now. "She…well, when she was here this one time…"

"When?"

"Okay, fine." The man picked his magazine up again huffily and shook it. "She didn't. What's the big deal? She's dead, not like she's going to complain."

Shepard stepped up beside him and the shop owner glanced at her. He did a double take, his head whipping back toward her so fast Garrus was surprised he didn't get whiplash. She looked much better than she had, her skin had started to darken again and she was starting to look healthier and more filled out. She was still a startling sight, though. Especially up close. That was apparent as the shop owner took her in and recognized her. For a minute, he appeared speechless, but then he let out a bark of nervous laughter. "What's this shit? You some Shepard impersonator trying to scare me?"

"Where's your sound system?" Shepard's voice had taken on that friendly, casual tone that set off warning bells in anyone who knew her for more than five minutes. He was happy to hear it. The shop owner should have been terrified but it did Garrus good to hear it.

"Forget it, lady. My shop needed a little boost and it's not illegal to use some famous dead chick's voice to sell shit. So hit the road before I call C-sec in."

"I _am_ C-sec," Garrus said. Former C-sec, but hey, this creep didn't need to know that.

"Bullshit." The man snorted, starting to read his magazine again pointedly. Shepard reached over and snatched it out of his hands. The man surged to his feet, looking seriously pissed off now. "Quit dicking around with me, lady!" He tried to swipe the magazine back and Shepard caught his hand, twisting his wrist until he howled with pain and yanking him over the counter effortlessly. It wasn't a contest. This guy on his best day couldn't have taken Shepard on her worst.

She dumped him on the floor with a neat little roll and launched herself over the counter. When the shop owner tried to get up Garrus pressed a foot to the man's chest. Kasumi was leaning against one of the shelves, grinning, looking thoroughly entertained.

The man struggled futilely against Garrus' hold. "You touch that sound system and I'll have you arrested!"

Shepard didn't look up from her study of the shop's control panel. "I'm getting rid of the fake me line, that's all. Shut the hell up or I'll reprogram the whole thing to say 'I'm Mr. Fatass Shop Owner and I have a dick the size of a cocktail frank!' at top volume every five seconds."

"Do it, Shepard, do it!" Kasumi cheered.

"Bitch!" the man spat. Garrus pressed down a little harder and the insult turned into a gurgle.

"There we go," Shepard murmured, leaning back and powering her omni-tool down. Her eyes met Garrus' and she grinned suddenly. "That was fun."

"Told you." Garrus lifted his foot off the man's chest as she came around the counter.

"That'll teach me to doubt you." Shepard crossed her arms and stared down at the shop owner for a long time, until the man was practically squirming under those gray eyes. She finally spoke, her voice quiet, "If you're thinking of making another recording…don't."

"Try Aish Ashland instead. She even tried putting a song out, so you'll actually have good clips of her voice," Kasumi added helpfully.

On that note, they left him to ponder over that idea. Shepard definitely had more of a bounce to her step than before. She paused and glanced back, cocking her head as she listened for a long moment to the silence now surrounding the store. She looked over at Garrus and gave him a wry smile. "All right, Vakarian, your point is made."

"You need to step up your game, Commander. I'm not always around to show you how to deal with idiots like that."

"Ironic, since I was the one who taught you how to deal with idiots like that in the first place."

Garrus stood up straight, genuinely indignant. "That's not true and you know it. I was C-sec! We were trained to deal with idiots!"

Kasumi started giggling again. "You know, I honestly can't tell if you two are genuinely oblivious or being deliberately obtuse."

They both turned to look at her, confused, which only made her laugh harder. As they headed toward the docks, the thief nodded slightly and spoke under her breath, "Oblivious."

* * *

The Illusive Man sat with his chair facing the window, gazing out at the dying star beyond it over steepled fingers.

He brought up the map of the colony called Horizon, the same one he'd shown to Shepard less than an hour ago. She was performing beautifully so far. They would see how well she did on the colony, but as a whole he was pleased with how right he had been. She was more assertive than she had been in their previous encounters, less confused. She'd been gratifyingly eager to get to the human colony once she knew it was being targeted.

Still…

He leaned back, lighting up a cigarette. He'd formed the crew of the Normandy SR-2 specifically to make Shepard feel more comfortable about working for Cerberus, and it was working. To a degree. But she still seemed to connect more with the aliens on the ship than her fellow humans, and that annoyed him. The turian, for example. At first, he'd thought having one of her former crew members would be very helpful, but it was becoming apparent that the turian was more responsible for bringing Shepard back to top form than Miranda or Kelly had been. It was puzzling and worrying that she shared such a close bond with him and he didn't like the idea that Vakarian had influence over her.

He took a drink. There was nothing he could do about Vakarian for the moment. The influence on Shepard in the present wasn't as important as considering the influence of her past.

He kept going back to her reluctance to go to Omega. He knew exactly who that fear could be traced back to. Kelly Chambers had several points to make on the subject and he agreed with most of them. When he'd carefully brought up the subject of getting the crew- and herself –mentally prepared for the mission, she'd snapped at him that she knew what she was doing far better than he. Which was true on some level, he supposed.

But that fear of her father was a weakness that they couldn't afford, and he was coming to the conclusion that she would not get over it on her own time. She would try to bury it again, the way she had been for years.

Better to lance a boil than let it fester.

With that in mind, he dismissed the map of Horizon and brought up his dossier on Benjamin Creed. A dossier it had taken considerable time and effort on behalf of some of his best agents to acquire. Only Thane Krios' dossier had come close to being as hard to put together.

An interesting piece of work, Benjamin Creed. The man had a talent for manipulation the Illusive Man quite admired. His employees could more correctly be called disciples some of them were so fanatically devoted to him. If the man wasn't insane, he might have actually considered recruiting him. But Creed was a wild card on all fronts. He would have tossed over a mission or betrayed them just on a whim and his deep seated love for causing chaos either on his own or by using a group was legendary even in the Terminus Systems. Far too unstable to be of use on an official basis.

The Illusive Man didn't have any real idea what his attitude toward his daughter was, but after while of contemplation, he decided they would have to find out. It would take some time and they would have to do it carefully. Subtlety, that was the ticket. If he didn't already know his daughter was within reach, he soon would.

Then it would be a matter of seeing whether or not he would come for her.


	17. Horizon

**AN:** I have a couple of new one shots up, one called "Calibrations" and another called "Perception", both Garrus/Shepard and both NSFW. Quit looking at me like that. I'm not perverted…really I'm not…much.

Also I'd like thank everyone for the reviews, faves, and follows!

* * *

It was pure luck. That was Kaidan's opinion later on. He didn't believe in divine intervention but the idea it was mere chance he wasn't carried off with the colonists wasn't any more comfortable to think about.

The only warning they'd had something was coming was the comm system had gone down. No one had blamed him for it, which was a bit surprising. People out here on the colonies had a serious distrust for the Alliance. He knew Shepard had done something very similar to this before Anderson had brought her onto the Normandy and had no idea how the hell she'd dealt with it for so many years.

Of course, it didn't help that he was almost certain there was more to this assignment than simply helping the colonists beef up their defenses.

He'd heard the rumors of Collectors abducting human colonies but hadn't put much stock in them. Anderson confirming that Shepard was alive and working for _Cerberus_ had sucked up his allotment of believing the impossible for this month, thanks.

At least that's what he thought until the ship appeared without warning.

It was a nightmare in motion, emerging through the atmosphere and slowly descending toward the colony. He'd never seen a ship like it before, not even during the hunt for Saren, and he'd seen a lot of crazy shit during those months. It vomited out a seething cloud that took Kaidan a second too long to realize was some kind of swarm. Then they were everywhere. He remembered the sting against the back of his neck, remembered stumbling behind some crates and grabbing the insect off him but before he could do more than throw it away, his limbs had frozen. He was aware, awake, but unable to do anything but watch in horror as the rest of the colonists were stung and met a similar fate. Lilith, one of the few colonists that had helped him, had fallen not far away. Her body was twisted in agony even as it froze, eyes wide and horrified.

They had taken her. Somehow, they had missed him, but the rest of the colonists were hauled up and shipped out in pods with the same organic look as the ship by creatures that had to be Collectors. He was a believer now. He watched one of them- its form cracked all over and leaking golden fire -oversee putting the people he'd been sent to protect into pods. Watched it proclaim itself the 'harbinger of their perfection' and then order the others to prepare them for 'ascension'. He watched, furious and helpless, wishing they had gotten the defense turrets working.

It turned out he wasn't the only one following that line of thought. It could have been minutes or hours for all he knew, but he heard the distinct sound of a turian's voice. Not just any turian, either. A figure in blue armor appeared some distance away but he could still recognize Garrus Vakarian. And Shepard was right behind him. Despite his shock, Kaidan felt a surge of hope go through him. Maybe there was hope for the colonists after all.

* * *

_She found him when she was looking for her mother. She later found out most of the bodies had been taken away by the slavers, most likely put into a mass grave somewhere although no one was ever able to find it. Right after she'd dug herself out of the rubble, however, she had been in shock. She had the vague idea that if only she could find Maman, everything else would just fade away like it had never happened._

"…epard..."

 _A groan had drawn her eagerly to the remains of the old general store in the center of town, her hope crashing down around her heart when she saw that it was one of_ them. _The batarian had been left for dead by his comrades, a gaping hole in his armor where someone had shot him. He seemed on the verge of death even as she walked up to him. His four eyes rolled toward her, his hand groping for the empty holster at his side. He tried to speak, but it only came out as a gurgle._

"Shepard!"

_He started to curse at her, spitting up blood with every word. She barely registered them, staring at him with an expression of bemusement. He spat out a thick mouthful of blood, a shudder wracking his body, taking in a deep breath to curse her again. She had been searching around the rubble while he did this, and his eyes widened as she padded back toward him, hauling a piece of rock in her arms almost as big as her head. He groped for something, anything, within reach as she knelt not far from his head, that same dull look in her eyes. She brought the rock up…and then brought it down. The dull crack as the rock met his skull, putting out one of his eyes and splitting bone effortlessly, echoed across the empty square. He started to gurgle in protest but she brought the rock up again, and then brought it down. Up and then down. Up and then down. She was still doing it when the Alliance cruiser showed up, smashing the rock down onto the batarian even though his head was little more than mush by that point…_

"Shepard, get up!"

_There was an odd thrum in her ears, vibrating through her bones. She cracked her eyes open, squinting against the brightness._

_And saw her father's face._

_Panic surged through her and crashed into her utter confusion, because that wasn't right. She_ knew _it wasn't right. Her father had never set foot on Mindoir. He'd come for her later. Claiming her and sweeping her away no more than a day after the ship that had picked her up had made port. Even if it was true, her father had certainly never had that dull, dead expression on his face. Even as she thought it, her vision cleared completely and his face faded, merged into a woman's face. What was left of it. Already her eyes were glowing blue and there were wires running beneath her skin and soon she would have a face just like the face beside her._

…husk faces.

Shepard felt a throbbing pressure in her head and was aware of a wet trickle from her nose and ears, the pain in her shoulder from where she'd hit when she'd been knocked back. There was blood in her mouth. The stench of burning and rot was a thick layer beneath the hot ozone smell she'd come to associate with husks. Usually, it came from the hideous needles that turned the bodies into husks.

She brought her pistol up as the pressure in her head increased, barely able to feel her arm, pulling the trigger on impulse and firing into that abominable collection of faces mere feet away. Every head was turned toward her, staring at her with eyes that burned with cold energy, their mouths stretched wide as they shrieked out that bone shaking song. Most were the blank faces of fully made husks but a few- like the woman's face that disintegrated as the bullets plowed into it -still had the features they'd possessed when they had still been human. One of them…one of them couldn't have been more than ten years old, her mouth frozen open in an eternal scream…

Hands seized hold of her arms and she was suddenly being dragged backward. The screaming faces that had been above her receded, giving her a look at the monster they were now a part of.

A giant husk made up of husks.

It was far from the only horror they had come across on Horizon.

She heard Grunt bellow something and suddenly Garrus was over her peering into her face. "Shepard?" He shook her lightly, his eyes wide. She must have looked pretty bad.

"Creature appears to emanate some sort of sub-sonic wave. Disorienting. Possibly fatal if exposed for too long." Mordin was suddenly kneeling on her other side. He jabbed a needle into the side of her neck as Garrus lunged to his feet, settling his rifle on his shoulder.

"Con…" Shepard coughed and struggled to sit up. Whatever Mordin had pumped given her was clearing her head, though the throbbing was almost unbearable. "Concussive shots. Garrus."

"Already on it, Shepard."

Of course he'd have figured that one out. Silly her. Mordin helped her up. Garrus had dragged her behind a stack of crates and she leaned against one to get stock of the situation. Jack and Grunt were distracting the thing. Jack was hurling obscenities at it and unloading on it with guns and biotics both. It rose up in the air again and Jack and Grunt scattered as it let loose with some kind of particle beam, sweeping it across the courtyard, evaporating everything in its path.

"Shepard!" Garrus dropped back behind the crates and turned to her. "EDI says she has the cannon up to 99%! It's almost ready!"

Shepard didn't trust herself to be able to dodge that thing, so she nodded to him. Garrus nodded back and waited for Grunt and Jack to move in, then launched himself across the yard. Shepard bit back the sharp stab of fear for him that rose in her and pushed herself up. She called out to Jack, circling so she had a clear shot, timing a warp field so she hit it from behind seconds after Jack's more powerful one hit it from the front.

She'd caused it some damage before Garrus had dragged her clear, she noted. The group of heads was a weak spot. It was wobbling a bit in the air and before it could steady itself, she threw a crate upward at its underbelly.

She risked a glance toward Garrus where he stood at the base of the recently built defense turret. The man who had sent them to it had informed them the Alliance had offered it to the colony and Kaidan Alenko had been sent to supervise its installation and help beef up the colony's defenses. The colonists hadn't used it against the Collectors because they hadn't been able to get the targeting matrix calibrated, which had just disgusted Garrus.

She knew the moment he and EDI got the cannon fully powered because he shouted something into his comm and a mechanical thrum overloaded the sounds from the monster.

The creature slammed into the ground, trying that wide area attack again, although it was clear it was trying that because it couldn't keep itself up in the air anymore. Grunt roared and charged. The creature seemed to realize it had erred by leaving its vulnerable point exposed but it was already too late. Grunt's plated head was lowered and with exquisite precision, he hit that nest of heads dead center like a battering ram. The deadly song was cut off with an undignified squawk and several more of the heads were splattered. Grunt backed up, his entire head covered in gore, as the beast lifted a hooked leg up and tried to swipe at him. The young krogan sneered and caught it, twisting with all his strength. The thing's shriek was cut off as the defense turret turned toward the ship and the ground beneath them rumbled. Garrus opened fire and Shepard had to fight not to cheer as the shots from the turret broke through Collector's shields and started striking the ship.

Her attention was drawn back to the monster and a tingle of alarm went through her as the beast started to shake, dark energy dancing over its armored carapace. It reminded her eerily of when a YMIR mech was about to…

Oh, fuck. "Get back! Jack! Grunt!" She dragged Jack away from the thing and Grunt dove out of the way as the dark energy exploded outward, knocking them all to the ground. The Collector's had put a suicide attack in their little pet, something to definitely keep in mind for the future. But at least it was dead.

Now a different rumble shook the air, one that danced along her spine. She had a sudden sharp memory of watching Sovereign take off from Eden Prime all those years ago, the first time she'd laid eyes on it. When it had risen up, it had filled the air with that same eerie, whining note that seemed to reverberate inside your head. She watched the Collector ship rise up into the air, its strange machinery rotating around the body of the ship. Apparently, they preferred to cut their losses and run rather than retaliate.

"They have colonists. Got what they came for," Mordin said quietly, coming up beside her.

Shepard winced, watching the ship disappear into the atmosphere and take almost all the colonists of Horizon with it. She didn't even turn as the mechanic that had told them about the turret came running out, his eyes wide. "No! Don't let them get away!"

Shepard sighed wearily. She'd known when they'd seen the colony empty that they were very likely too late. She'd never wanted to be proven wrong more.

The mechanic waved his arms. "Half the colony is in there! They took Egan and Sam! And Lillith!" He whipped around to glare at her, desperation twisting his features. "Do something!"

The throbbing in her head was becoming all consuming. What the hell did he expect her to do, wave her fingers and magically drag it back to the planet?

"Shut the fuck up," Jack snapped. The battle had worn even her down to the bone. Otherwise Shepard very much feared the mechanic would've been flying across the courtyard. "You were cowering in that garage shitting yourself while they took your buddies away, asshole."

"Take a couple moments to think before you start yelling at Shepard about not doing anything," Garrus warned, coming up on her other side.

The mechanic squinted at Garrus and then her. "Shepard. I know that name. Sure, I remember you. You're some kind of big Alliance hero."

"I was once, maybe," Shepard muttered, more to herself than to him.

"Commander Shepard. Captain of the Normandy. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel." She would have taken those words as praise if it weren't for the flat way they were spoken. Kaidan Alenko came walking up to them, his movements oddly stiff, like his limbs were asleep, his dark eyes fixed on her. She couldn't interpret his expression. Kaidan had always been good at keeping himself tightly in control and strictly professional. He'd loosened up quite a bit as he'd come to trust her but she had still never quite gotten the hang of reading him. He looked over at the mechanic. "You're in the presence of a legend, Delan. And a ghost."

Delan wasn't impressed. He glared at Kaidan. "All the good people we lost and you get left behind. Figures. Screw this. I'm done with you Alliance types."

"Make sure to clean out your panties before you sit down again," Jack sneered as he stomped by her. Grunt snickered.

Shepard ignored them all, focusing on Kaidan for the moment. He came forward and reached out a hand. She shook it automatically. "I thought you were dead, Commander. We all did."

She had yet to figure out a nice, neat way to respond to that one. Saying that she _had_ been dead had not proven to be the best way to start an explanation but she was at a loss as how else to do it. "Good to see you, Kaidan." That was nice, neutral, and true enough until she could figure out the best way to explain the situation.

However, it was obviously not the right thing to say, because anger flashed across Kaidan's eyes. "Is that all you have to say? You show up after two years and just act like nothing happened?" Before she could speak, he shook his head. "I would have followed you anywhere, Commander! Thinking you were dead was like losing a limb." She blinked at him, utterly confused. "Why didn't you contact us? Why didn't you let us know you were alive?"

Well, hell, looked like she didn't have a choice. "I was dead, Kaidan. I spent almost all of those two years completely out of it while Cerberus rebuilt me."

Kaidan looked like she'd struck him. "You _are_ with Cerberus now." He spoke slowly, and the disbelief in his voice made her cringe inside. It was ten times worse than when Jack had said almost the same thing because she knew exactly why Kaidan couldn't believe it. He looked at Garrus and shook his head. "You too, Garrus? I can't believe the reports were right."

He'd gotten reports on her? Even as she thought it, Garrus drew up sharply. "Reports? You already knew?"

"Alliance intel thought Cerberus might have been behind the missing human colonies." Kaidan stared at Shepard, his eyes narrowed. "I got a tip that this one might be the next one to get hit."

Several things the Illusive Man had said clicked into place at once and she was suddenly quite certain of where that tip had originated.

"Anderson stonewalled me," Kaidan continued. "But there were rumors that you weren't dead. That you were working for the enemy."

The accusation in his tone put her on the defensive. "The Reapers are my enemy, Kaidan, and the Collectors work for them. At the moment, Cerberus and I want the same thing: to save the human colonies."

"Do you really believe that? Or is that was Cerberus wants you to think?" Kaidan was getting angrier with each passing minute. He made a slashing motion. "I wanted to believe the rumors that you were alive, but I never expected anything like this! You've turned your back on everything we stood for!"

"You know me better than that." She was surprised at how much that stung, because he _should_ have known better. "I wouldn't have worked with them if I'd had any other option."

"Would you be able to look Admiral Kahoku in the eyes and say that if he was alive?" Kaidan snapped.

She couldn't answer that, stricken into silence. He couldn't have silenced her more effectively if he'd slapped her across the face. He'd been right there beside her when she'd torn apart three Cerberus bases to avenge Admiral Kahoku. First they had lured his men into a thresher maw nest, and then they had killed him when he'd tried to avenge them. Kahoku, the man who had brought her into the Alliance. Who'd given her a second chance at life and who, in her opinion, upheld everything good about the Alliance. The soldier she had tried to emulate to the best of her abilities.

"You _bastard_." She was startled by Garrus' low, furious voice. The turian took a step forward. Shepard laid a hand on his shoulder without thinking about it.

Some of the anger had leaked out of Kaidan's expression, but his voice was still hard. "I want to believe you, but I don't trust Cerberus. They could be using the threat of the Reapers to manipulate you. What if they're behind it? What if they're working with the Collectors?"

There were so many flaws in that line of reasoning Shepard couldn't figure out where to begin. Garrus did. "Are you listening to yourself? Damn it, Kaidan, you're so focused on Cerberus you can't see the real threat!"

Shepard agreed. Even beneath the pain of the reminder she was working with the people that had killed her mentor, she couldn't help but be surprised. The Kaidan she remembered had always been the one to take a step back and look at a situation from every angle. He was a soldier on par with the likes of Anderson and Ashley. A true soldier. There were quite a few things that she and Kaidan never had and never would see eye to eye on but she had always trusted in that. "You're not looking at the facts clearly, Kaidan," she said quietly, trying to reason with him.

"Maybe. Or maybe you just feel like you owe them for saving you. Maybe you're the one who's not thinking straight."

He was wrong. She knew he was wrong. But those words pushed a shard of doubt about herself and her mind that no one had managed to yet.

Kaidan stepped back, schooling his expression into cold neutrality. "You've changed. But I still know where my loyalties lay. I'm an Alliance soldier. Always will be."

Yes, he was. A far better soldier than she had ever been, and she was the first to admit it.

"I've got to report to the Citadel." He turned away. "They can decide if they believe your story or not."

She didn't try to stop him. Even if she had thought it would do any good, she was too tired, of all of it, to try. But she couldn't help the cynical chuckle that rose in her throat. "They won't. You think I didn't try them first, Kaidan?"

That checked his stride, but only for a moment. "Goodbye, Shepard. Be careful."

* * *

Garrus considered it heroic on his part that he hadn't put a bullet in Kaidan's kneecap. Or maybe even that thick skull of his.

He brooded a bit as they gathered up supplies and examined the bodies of the Collectors. He wouldn't really have shot Kaidan, of course. His anger was understandable since he didn't have all the facts, but his unwillingness to even listen to Shepard, of all people, had been a surprise.

No, Garrus had only gotten pissed off when he'd tossed Kahoku into Shepard's face. That had been _way_ out of line. Worse, because Kaidan knew what a weak spot Kahoku was for her. Garrus himself had wondered how often the admiral had crossed her mind since she'd started working with Cerberus, but he had never planned to bring it up.

Unlike Kaidan, he had never wanted to see that shock and pain in her eyes.

Garrus came across a Collector's corpse, the only one of the actual Collectors they had managed to kill. The rest of the Collectors must have been focused on getting the colonists onto their ship because they left the defenses mostly to the several variations of husks they appeared to have brought with them. Husks fused together to form more powerful, more hideous creatures. Saren and his geth had not had anything like it. But then again, the Collectors seemed to have been working for the Reapers for a long time, so their methods were probably perfected over centuries.

Mordin came up from studying and making notes over the various dead husks remarking to himself that it was a shame he couldn't have gathered samples from the dead beast they'd fought by the turret. The reminder of that made Garrus glance over at Shepard, who was resting on a crate, her head in her hands. She didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, he was relieved to see, but her face was a mask of rusty red. Dried tracks of blood trailed from her nose, eyes, ears, and the corners of her mouth like war paint. He didn't think he'd have to fight her about going straight to Dr. Chakwas but he wasn't above dragging her there himself if she didn't.

Mordin exclaimed as he caught sight of the Collector corpse and he hurried over to examine it. Garrus stepped out of his way, still watching Shepard, so he didn't notice the quick look the salarian shot between the two of them or the slight hum of interest he made before turning back to the corpse.

"Entirely different makeup than husks," Mordin commented as he knelt to get samples. "Highly likely they were not human to begin with. Not sure what species originally. Maybe their own species. Will run tests. No signs of the outside interference shown when it was alive. Very interesting. Statement of 'assuming control' indicates some force controlling it from a distance. Collectors seem very interested in Shepard."

Oh, yes, he'd taken note of that. When the Collector had shifted, its skin cracking, golden light bleeding from it, it had started speaking. Several times it had ordered its troops to neutralize Shepard and take her alive if possible. _Not going to happen_ , Garrus informed the long departed Collectors silently.

"Officer Vakarian." Garrus turned to find Mordin studying the Collector intently. He looked up at him, his expression sober. "Have been giving thought to your queries regarding your…family problems." He hesitated, giving a sidelong glance toward Shepard. "Know several institutions studying Corpalis Syndrome. Running trials for a new treatment. Might be willing to waive fees for trial patients with sufficient persuasion."

Garrus was looking at him sharply now. "What kind of persuasion?"

"Delicate subject. Many scientific and medical institutions extremely interested in Collectors. Hard to get proper tissue samples because of situation with human colonies." He looked down to the corpse at their feet significantly. "Should probably check on the commander before shuttle arrives." He wandered back toward her.

Garrus took the hint and knelt down, pulling a knife out of a slot in his armor, feeling a flare of hope in him the likes of which he hadn't felt for a long time. Maybe some good could come out of this day after all.


	18. Spoken and Unspoken

A few weeks later, Miranda came to the doorway of her office as Shepard passed, her face set in stern lines. "Commander, may I speak to you for a moment?"

Shepard stepped into her office, raising an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"The Illusive Man informed me of something disturbing a couple of hours ago."

Shepard had a moment to wonder exactly why the Illusive Man hadn't told her directly if it was so disturbing before her XO thrust a datapad into her hand. "Officer Vakarian received this. We became suspicious when he sent out a package and several messages to an unknown party and blocked anyone from intercepting them."

Not for the first time, Shepard wondered if paranoia was a requirement for becoming a Cerberus agent or if they developed it over time. She scanned the message and then read it again more slowly, her brow furrowing.

Miranda crossed her arms across her impressive chest. "Were you aware Officer Vakarian was sending out samples of Collector tissue, Commander?"

"No." Shepard felt like there was a rock sinking into the pit of her stomach. The message was from a salarian medical institute thanking Garrus for samples of Collector tissue and asking him to thank Mordin for upgrading their clearance. It also mentioned something called Corpalis Syndrome and assured him that they had new trials going for the treatment of it. They would very likely be able to waive any fees for trial members. "Mordin hasn't informed me of any tampering with his samples." She forced herself to keep her voice steady as she handed the datapad back. "Garrus must have taken some of his own on Horizon."

"A breach like this…" Miranda started, looking livid.

"What breach?"

Miranda looked at her disbelievingly. Shepard shrugged. "Mordin has plenty of samples of his own and it doesn't interfere with the mission in the slightest, Miranda. What's the problem?"

"The fact he's sending Collector samples out to a random salarian institute doesn't bother you at all?" Miranda burst out with a rare show of temper.

It did but not for the same reason it bothered Miranda. "Seems to me the more people studying the Collectors the better." Miranda's disgusted look had Shepard's temper flaring. "But of course, what's bothering you is not that someone else is studying them, it's the fact it's to a salarain institute and not a human one that sticks in your craw."

Miranda drew herself up, her face settling once more into an expressionless mask that didn't quite hide the outright dislike in her eyes. Since the feeling was wholly mutual, Shepard didn't hold that against her. She moved for the office door. "I'll talk to him. Other than that, we have better things to focus on."

* * *

Garrus wasn't the one Shepard went looking for first. It was a little sooner than Mordin had been expecting but he wasn't surprised when Shepard came striding into the science lab. Cerberus had a tendency to rely on primitive methods- for instance all personnel had cyanide capsules in their molars when everyone from the STG down knew ocular nerve flashbangs were far more effective –but the spy network on the ship was quite impressive. For humans.

Of course, he'd already repurposed several of the bugs placed in the science lab to feed false data back to Lawson's office. He was currently waiting to see how long it took her to figure it out and find the bug he'd planted there.

Shepard, considerably less rigid in her thinking, asked him right off the bat: "You heard all that, I take it?"

"Of course." Mordin had been preparing for this, ready to launch into how helping Garrus was a private matter that did not, as she'd said herself, directly influence their mission. If anything, it was positive, since it would help Vakarian focus.

She flummoxed him even before he could get started. She had no way of knowing how rare an occurrence that was. "Is he sick? Is Garrus sick?"

Mordin's usually quicksilver mind stalled. Of all things he expected her to say, that had never occurred to him. Although he could see how she would come to such a conclusion now. It was the genuine distress in Shepard's face and body language that really startled him, it actually left him feeling a bit sheepish. Of course, he'd already observed that Officer Vakarian and the commander had an unusually close bond for a turian and a human, but he hadn't realized how close. "No, no, no, Shepard. Officer Vakarian in perfect health. A bit too tense but that seems personality related. Have recommended non-combat based methods of relaxation."

Shepard snorted, relaxing a bit. "Good luck with that."

"Contact with Helos Medical Institute unrelated to Officer Vakarian's health." He waited a beat but Shepard simply nodded and excused herself. Her body language told Mordin quite clearly that it took some effort. She _wanted_ to quiz him on what they had been doing but that odd sense of propriety he'd observed in her wouldn't allow it. She apparently was willing to be satisfied knowing Vakarian wasn't in danger.

Very interesting.

The little buzz of interest he'd felt when he'd noticed Vakarian's clearly personal concern for Shepard's well being on Horizon became a hum. If there had ever been an opportunity for someone to have close observation of a strong emotional bond between a turian and human, he wasn't aware of it. A turian male and a human female, no less! That just added a whole new level of interesting possibilities…

* * *

When summoned by the Illusive Man, Shepard had started taking it upon herself to hold off answering immediately. She found something else to do before heading for the holograph pad. Kelly became quite agitated when she did this, Miranda got irritated and Jack found watching both their reactions utterly hilarious.

Shepard was quite certain that both Miranda and the Illusive Man found this behavior extremely petty and childish. Namely because it was.

This time, however, she nodded when Kelly told her the Illusive Man wanted to talk to her and headed straight there albeit at a meandering pace, leaving the yeoman staring after her in confusion. She was more preoccupied than defiant at the moment, a preoccupation with Garrus' name stamped firmly on it. She kept turning over the discussions with Miranda and Mordin in her mind and trying to decide if she should ask Garrus about it. She had a strong suspicion he'd take a professional stance on the whole thing; which meant telling her it was personal and none of her business in the most polite manner. It was even more annoying that he was right on that account. She'd already established Garrus was in no danger health wise and whatever he was doing didn't interfere with the mission so she had no real reason to be involved at all.

She was just worried. That's what it came down to. Garrus had been running hot and cold since they'd rescued him from Omega. He was swinging between an almost eerie calm and looking like he was going to explode if he didn't kill something. It wasn't causing problems on missions but this was the first time since she'd met Garrus that she had been forced to wonder if it was going to _become_ a problem eventually.

"It seems like Garrus has finally worked that stick out of his butt, but now he's trying to beat guys to death with it," Joker had commented to her the other day. "I can't believe I like the old Garrus better."

The trouble was pushing Garrus didn't work. Most times it was better to back off and give him space to work through whatever was bothering him. But this time the problem wasn't something simple or something that could be resolved easily and…there was nothing she could really do to help him. She knew the feeling of being betrayed. She knew the feeling of making a mistake that cost people their lives and the guilt of being responsible for costing them those lives. Whether it was misplaced or not, it settled deep inside you. You never got over it. You learned to live with it…or you let it eat you away. She could offer Garrus nothing to ease that pain except the knowledge he wasn't alone and she wasn't at all sure that was enough.

So yes, she was worried.

_Add it to the Pile 'o Worries, Shepard._ She sighed and rubbed her shoulder as she stepped onto the holopad; just her luck that she'd had to land on the bad one back on Horizon.

The Illusive Man appeared, room, chair and cigarette included. At times like this, everything about the man irritated the hell out of her. "You know, if you found a new pose it wouldn't change any of these meetings. You can relax. Lean back a bit. Show up in pajama pants with little hearts printed on it." Actually, she would have paid money to see that.

The Illusive Man didn't respond, the bastard. He gestured with the hand holding the cigarette. "You've looked at the new dossiers, I take it?"

"You called me here just to ask me that?"

He merely took another drag on his cigarette, watching her with those strange eyes of his, the picture of studied patience. This time around, Shepard waited him out, just looking back at him in silence. He knew full well she'd gotten the dossiers and had spoken to Miranda about it in passing and Shepard had an inkling of an idea why he'd wanted to speak to her. Let him get on with it.

"Illium is quite a journey and it's asari controlled. It's rather fortunate two of the three are there at the moment. Save's time," the Illusive Man finally said. He put emphasis on the 'two of the three' part, which confirmed to her why he'd called her in.

The first two dossiers of people the Illusive Man wanted added to the mission were a drell assassin and an asari Justicar. The assassin seemed a simple enough task; offer most of them the right amount of money and they'd do pretty much anything. Shepard had a vague memory of hearing about Justicars somewhere and looking them up had refreshed her memory. A powerful sect of biotic warriors who adhered to a strict code of ethics, Justicars were revered amongst the asari and feared by pretty much everyone else. Especially criminals, considering most of the Justicars' lives seemed devoted to punishing wrongdoing.

How the hell they were going to convince this one to join in, Shepard wasn't sure. But that was her problem, not his.

But the third dossier, now. The third dossier was Tali.

Shepard had discarded it almost immediately. Not because she didn't want Tali with her on this mission, but because Tali had already made it clear she would never work with Cerberus. She had her own missions to do for her people. Shepard remembered all too well how the other quarians, like Prazza, had reacted to the name Cerberus back on Freedom's Progress, and how he'd challenged Tali because of it. God only knew what her superiors had said about her former comrade being a part of Cerberus now. She had no intention of compromising Tali or her mission.

"Haestrom is actually a closer jaunt than Illium is," the Illusive Man continued, his voice casual.

"I think Tali made her thoughts on Cerberus clear," Shepard said flatly, wanting to just get this over with. "And since neither you nor Miranda will say why the quarians seem so hostile, I have to assume she has a good reason for it."

"I've had people monitoring geth space," he said as if he hadn't heard. "Wanting to keep an eye on things there, you know. A report came in a few hours ago of an attempted distress signal coming out of Haestrom. Usually, the quarians can get a distress call through anything but the geth are blocking communication and mobilizing."

Shepard went absolutely still. The Illusive Man fell silent, watching her again. His face was expressionless but Shepard could sense the smug satisfaction behind it. In that moment, she hated him with everything in her. Hated him because she had no real way of figuring out if that was a lie and he knew full well she wouldn't risk taking too much time to try. Not if there was even a possibility Tali was in danger. He couldn't have played this hand any better.

Shepard turned and walked away without another word, her jaw clenched so tightly she thought her teeth were going to shatter. She strode through the ship, barely aware of the crew members scrambling to keep out of her way, and went to the main deck. She had to tell Joker and EDI to up their defenses as much as possible and set a course for Haestrom.

They were heading into geth territory.


	19. Coming Apart

**AN:** I did cover art/playlist for this story here, if you're interested in that sort of thing: <http://kdlala.deviantart.com/art/Labyrinth-Mass-Effect-2-Playlist-and-Story-Cover-481946988>

* * *

 

 

There had been many people throughout Shepard's life who had made remarks about her 'coming apart at the seams'. They generally meant it as a comment on her mental state, particularly when she started raving about sentient starships getting ready to wipe out the galaxy.

She was very grateful, however, that her body chose to start physically coming apart at the seams _after_ the fight with the geth colossus.

Shepard didn't have a prayer of understanding how the reconstruction of her brain had worked, nor why she remembered or didn't remember certain things. For instance, she had no idea why she didn't remember people she had known for years and yet remembered how to fight geth with almost perfect accuracy.

Blowing shit up and killing geth were two things she excelled at, and if anyone on the Normandy SR-2 doubted that, those silly thoughts were put to rest as they battled their way to Tali on Haestrom. Shepard had learned it was formerly a quarian planet and couldn't help but wonder how Tali had felt as she moved through the ruins of architecture built before her people lost everything to the geth.

Saren, during the time she had been hunting him down, had an army of geth at his beck and call. Later, she had come to understand that it was Sovereign they had been following, not Saren, worshiping the Reaper like a god although Sovereign hadn't considered them anything more than useful tools.

Geth couldn't be indoctrinated and the Reapers didn't have much use in the long run for anything they couldn't control on every level.

Of all the geth they had faced off with, the colossi were the biggest pain in the ass. They were massive, heavily armored constructs that took huge amounts of both time and firepower to take down. The ones she remembered were bad enough but the one standing between them and the observatory where Tali had sealed herself in was an upgraded version. In addition to being annoyingly hard to kill, it also had the ability to close itself off and then repair itself. Shepard, frankly, considered that cheating.

Taking the thing down up close and on foot was not how she would have preferred to do it, but they had no other choice. Everyone who had accompanied Tali to this godforsaken rock was dead, save for one marine, Kal'Reeger. Lovely fellow, Shepard had taken a liking to him right off the bat; straightforward and offering plenty of good advice about taking the thing on. Unfortunately, he was wounded and his suit was ruptured. There were few things more dangerous for a quarian, with their weakened immune systems. Not that it was keeping Kal'Reeger down; he'd just clamped down on the rupture and pumped antibiotics into his system. Or, as he'd put it: "The geth might get me, but I'm not going to die of an infection in the middle of a battle. That's just insulting."

Lucky for them, he had a rocket launcher, which was a tremendous help in distracting the colossus.

Shepard felt the pain right as the giant geth started to collapse, small explosions rocking its core, unable to hold itself up because two of its legs had been blown away. The savage glee she'd felt dissolved into alarm as she felt a lance of pain shoot through her left side from her shoulder all the way to her hip. Not the slight pings she'd been feeling in that shoulder the past few weeks, but serious pain. She sent medigel pumping through her system through her suit controls but when she lowered her gun, another bolt of agony shot through her and she felt something in her left shoulder… _give_. That was the only word she had to describe it, like the muscles were just going limp. The pain mellowed into a throb when she stopped trying to move her left arm, which was suddenly a lot harder to move than her right one was.

She gritted her teeth against the pain as they moved to the observatory, pushing it back for the moment. Dr. Chakwas could take a look at it when they got back to the Normandy.

Tali was deeply shaken but unharmed. When Kal'Reeger joined them, she gave the information she had gathered- something to do with the planet's sun dying far earlier than it should have been –to him, saying she hoped whatever the Migrant Fleet learned from it was worth the lives lost. She wouldn't be there to hear it, as she was joining Shepard.

Whatever Kal'Reeger's reply to that was, Shepard didn't hear it because a slight shift in her body weight sent pain radiating through her in an agonizing wave. That horrible giving sensation in her shoulder intensified and the pain became so bad her vision started to go gray. She didn't realize it when she fell to her knees, too consumed by panic as she realized she couldn't move her left shoulder or arm at all.

* * *

Zaeed swore behind Garrus as Shepard stumbled to her knees. Garrus knelt down beside her, barely hearing Tali's frightened questions. He'd seen she had been favoring her left side slightly but he hadn't seen her take a major hit on the way in and even now, he couldn't see anything wrong with her. He laid a hand on her shoulder lightly to try and figure out what was wrong- all Shepard seemed able to say was she couldn't move it –and she let out a choked cry. Garrus jerked his hand back and not just because he could see he was hurting her. Even through her armor, he could feel something was very wrong. The muscles felt loose. It felt disturbingly like the bones of her shoulder were just gone.

"Get the shuttle here now," Jacob ordered into his comm as he knelt at Shepard's other side. "Shuttle's on the way, Commander. Can you stand?"

"I think so…" Shepard's voice was tight with pain. Garrus took hold of her right elbow and helped her up.

"What the hell, Shepard? All the shots I saw aimed at you were going for your head. Hardest part of you," Zaeed said.

But the left shoulder was her bad one, Garrus thought. The one that had practically been dissolved by thresher maw venom. But Cerberus had rebuilt her, hadn't they? That should have been taken care of. You couldn't even see most of the scars on that shoulder anymore.

Once they were on the shuttle, Jacob sat her down, pulled off the shoulder pads of her armor and carefully undid the seam at the back of her suit so he could pull it back and get a look at her shoulder. Shepard closed her eyes, her face twisted, biting her lip so hard she drew blood to keep from screaming. Garrus started to tell Jacob to knock it off when he caught sight of the Cerberus soldier's expression and felt dread stab through his gut. Jacob looked sick, his eyes wide. Garrus made himself move around so he could get a closer look. He stared, feeling nauseated.

"How bad is it?" Shepard managed. How she was still conscious, Garrus didn't know.

Jacob had stopped unsealing her body armor when he'd gotten a good look at it and it was a good thing too, because the suit was the only thing that was holding her shoulder together. The shoulder-blade had come completely away from the rest of her body, tearing flesh along with it. Garrus could clearly see a long tear along one side and near the top of her shoulder, the skin was stretched hideously, a ridge of bone prominent several inches away from the rest of her shoulder.

"Jesus…" Jacob whispered.

Shepard tried to turn and gasped. "Don't move," Garrus snapped, finally finding his voice.

" _How bad is it?"_

"It's bad, Shepard. Try not to move at all if possible."

"Okay, I'll just sit here and try not to pass out," she said shakily.

"You do that…" He tried to keep his voice light but the glance she shot him told him he wasn't succeeding.

It was a tense ride back to the Normandy. Chakwas was waiting for them when they stepped off the shuttle and immediately had Shepard taken to the med bay, snapping orders to her assistants.

Garrus turned to find Tali hovering near him, twisting her hands in front of her. Once Shepard was out of earshot, she started shooting questions at him at a rapid pace. Garrus guided her to the mess hall where Gardener, bless him, had some dextro based drinks Tali could get to easily using a straw. It gave Tali some time to calm down and also allowed Garrus to keep an eye on the med-bay, even if he couldn't see anything at the moment.

Staring would drive him insane, so he turned his attention back to Tali. "So…welcome back to the Normandy."

Tali let out a surprised laugh. "Such as it is…" She looked around, her three fingered hands, so like his own, wrapped around her drink. "It's strange. It's like walking through the old Normandy but everything is slightly…off."

Garrus nodded, understanding perfectly. He felt, more than saw, the way her gaze lingered on the bandage covering his face but she didn't mention it.

Instead, Tali looked around at the dozens of Cerberus members looking at them curiously and trying to peer into the medbay. In the old days, she would have been chattering a mile a minute, too nervous to sit still. Now there a sense of gravity around her, a layer of maturity, and he knew with a pang that she would never be as young as she'd been before she'd gone to Haestrom. "I'm sorry about your team, Tali."

Her hands tightened around her drink bottle.

"It wasn't your fault, you know." It sounded lame even to him even though he meant it. When Shepard had shown him the dossier on Tali, his first thought was wondering what the hell the admirals of the Migrant Fleet had been thinking. No turian team would have gone that deep into enemy territory without an admiral or a general leading them.

"I'll have to send messages to all of their families as soon as I get settled," she said. Her voice was subdued but Garrus could hear the pain beneath it. He looked away. Having had to do the same thing with his own team, he knew there was nothing he could say that would make it easier on her. He changed the subject, quietly filling her in on all he knew about the mission and what they had been doing up to that point. Tali listened, turning her drink around and around between her hands, nodding occasionally. She sighed when he finished. "I wish I'd joined her earlier, but…" She checked herself when Kelly Chambers sat down near them. She gave Tali a smile. "Welcome aboard, Tali'Zorah. I'm Kelly."

"Just Tali is fine." Tali had apparently decided on a remote, frigidly polite tone for anyone wearing black and white on this ship; she'd used the same one on Miranda and Jacob.

Garrus was generally indifferent to Kelly Chambers. She was friendly enough but there was something sneaky about her beneath the chatterbox façade that put Garrus on his guard. However, no one could accuse her of not picking up on cues and she didn't push Tali, instead turning to Garrus and asking, "Have you heard anything about Shepard's status?"

"Nothing." Even as he said it, his attention was drawn by Dr. Chakwas striding through the door. The doctor ignored queries aimed her way, barely glancing over as Garrus rose to his feet. Her focus was completely on Miranda Lawson, who had come out of her office and was standing not far from the medbay with a cup of coffee.

Dr. Chakwas stopped in front of Miranda, who looked taken aback and Garrus didn't blame her. He'd never seen the doctor so angry and she'd had plenty of reasons to be pissed off with all of them on the old Normandy, considering what kinds of things they tended to get dragged into…and injured by.

Garrus sat back down again and turned his head slightly. The implants they'd given him in order to save the hearing on the scarred side of his face made his hearing better on that side. In the right circumstances, he could hear detailed sounds from quite a distance and at this moment he could make out the whispered conversation between Miranda and Dr. Chakwas.

"…didn't take into account the fact that shoulder was weaker than the other. What kind of slipshod operation were you running, Ms. Lawson?" Dr. Chakwas demanded in a low voice.

"My focus was entirely on rebuilding her brain and personality, doctor. Wilson and his team were in charge of restoring her body."

"Wilson, the one who betrayed you and was directly responsible for her being woken up far too early, you mean?"

Garrus' eyes narrowed slightly. This was all news to him.

"How do you know for certain he didn't deliberately sabotage her?" Chakwas continued.

"We knew there could be possible complications, doctor." Miranda said. She sounded irritated now. "There's no need to get paranoid…"

"Her shoulder literally came apart from the rest of her body! If that wasn't done on purpose than it shows a level of incompetence that's mind boggling!"

Miranda made an impatient gesture. "Wilson is dead either way." She gave Chakwas a small, tight smile. "I shot him myself. Whatever the cause, we need to make certain this isn't a sign her body is deteriorating…"

"At least until _after_ you've thrown her at the Collectors." Chakwas had herself under control again except for the bitter edge to her voice. "I know, Ms. Lawson. I'll call Dr. Solus in for a second opinion." She turned to go back to the medbay. "Shepard has seen enough trauma for ten lifetimes, I'll do whatever it takes to prevent more."

Even through the sickness roiling through him- Miranda's words brought nightmarish images of Shepard literally falling apart -Garrus had to bite back a chuckle. Only Dr. Chakwas could make words that brutally polite and yet sharp enough to slice the air, driving home the message that lay underneath her words. It was a cool reminder to Ms. Lawson where Chakwas' loyalties lay: with Shepard, not Cerberus.

As Garrus rose to intercept the doctor, his gaze met Miranda's briefly and he saw her eyes narrow a bit. He wondered if she was being reminded Chakwas wasn't the only one whose loyalties were with the woman and not the organization, especially after Tali had made it clear who she was here for.

Chakwas turned in the doorway when she heard him approach. The stern look on her face softened a bit when she saw who it was, but she didn't move. "She's going to be all right, Garrus. She's heavily sedated right now, though. Let her rest."

"Is she going to be able to use that arm again?" It seemed impossible after seeing that injury.

"I won't go into the gory details, but long story short, the people who put her back together didn't give extra attention to that weak shoulder. The muscle and skin weave weren't set properly. It looked very bad, but it was actually quite simple to repair." She nodded to him. "Get some rest, Garrus. She should be awake by morning."

* * *

 

_She truly hadn't meant to kill him. That was the bloody hell of it._

_She'd heard plenty of his reputation, so she'd gone in passing herself off as a boy and much younger than her fifteen years. Since she was skinny and with delicate bones, she could switch between genders and slide between ages with an ease everyone but her father found a bit disconcerting. Papa, of course, only found it amusing._

_She had no reason to think this time would be different from any of the others. She'd go in, she'd let him feel her up a bit, then hit him with a pressure syringe she kept hidden in her sleeve right as her father would come in. Simple stuff._

_Until the end of her days, Arian would never quite know if Benjamin Creed had planned things out exactly or if he had simply seen an opportunity to twist his daughter into what he wanted her to be and had taken it. Maybe a mixture of both. Certainly, she was willing to admit she had gotten cocky under her father's tutelage._

_Whatever the machinations behind it, it had ended with her first kill since she'd smashed in the head of that dying batarian the day they'd wiped out Mindoir. The drug hadn't worked and her father had not come in when he was supposed to._

_The pain as the mark had aimed a wild swing at her had shocked her to the bone. That kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen anymore. There was either someone waiting to stop it or the people facing her knew too much about who she was and who she was connected to. They weren't supposed to_ dare _try and hurt her. But he had._

_When he shoved her back against the wall, knocking her head back against it, rage had boiled up through her and she started fighting back, which only pissed him off further._

_There had been white hot pain in her arm, in her leg..._

_She'd felt his hands gripping her as he threw her across the room, smashing into a table._

_Then fear had joined the rage and she'd gotten a shard of glass somewhere and when he'd come at her again, she'd stabbed him, feeling savage glee well up in her as pain crossed his face. 'How do you like it, fucker?'_

_How many times did she stab him? Enough times she was covered in blood, soaked in enough of it that her clothing was plastered to her body. When she came out of the haze, she was panting, clutching the shard of glass in her hand, staring around the blood spattered room with a kind of dull shock._

_The door was sliding open._

_Arian's head came up, her eyes wide in the red mask of her face._

_Her father stood in the doorway, surveying the scene silently for a long moment. Then he smiled. That same smile of cruel amusement he showed the world in general._

_And a dim part of her finally realized this was a dream because she knew here and now as she had never realized then that he was laughing at her the same way he laughed at everything._

_It wasn't rage that tore through her shock this time, it was hate. Not the wild, unfocused hatred of the child she had been but the woman's hatred, reaching back through the years. Hate that had burned its way deep inside her and hardened into a black core she would never admit aloud that she had built herself around._

_It drove her to her feet and had her crossing the room before she even thought, raising the shard of glass in her hand with a snarl, not caring that it was a dream. Only caring at this chance to finally, finally end the pain, the rage, and the all consuming fear this man's very name still brought out in her..._

Garrus charged into the medbay. If the door had been locked, the turian might very well have shot the lock off, his entire focus on the crashing he'd heard from beyond the door.

The first thing he saw was Dr. Chakwas, who was standing not far from the door. Her head whipped around as he came in and she threw a hand toward him. "Stop, Garrus."

The strain in her voice, the clear sign she was striving for calm, paused him. There was wariness in her eyes, and worry, but neither of them were because of him.

She turned her gaze slowly back to the other side of the room. Shepard was crouched on the floor beside the bed, dark energy dancing around her, her pale hair sticking out every which way. His eyes locked with hers and his breath caught in his throat.

There was no recognition in her eyes. None. Whatever it was she was seeing had turned those gray eyes into fathomless pools of pure, savage violence. Garrus realized he had a gun in his hand and didn't remember grabbing it, but it was probably a lucky thing he had not raised it, because she was clearly on the verge of attacking either one of them and he didn't truly didn't think he could shoot her even in self defense.

"Just hold still," Dr. Chakwas said, her voice calm.

"What's wrong with her?" Garrus kept his voice low. He had no idea what to do. He'd seen what kind of violence she was capable of back on Omega when she'd mutilated that bartender, but at least that had been controlled.

"Normally, I would say she's having a night terror, but this beyond anything I've seen her go through before. It's probably the drugs. She's never reacted well to them." Chakwas kept her hands out to show she meant no harm. "Commander Shepard."

Her only reaction was to shift her gaze to the doctor. Garrus was concerned she might attack, but he was also very afraid she was going to rip her shoulder open again. Chakwas obviously was concerned about the same thing because she had to stop herself from taking a step forward.

Night terror. Now Garrus realized what was bothering him so much. It was the look in her eyes. She wasn't angry; she was scared. She wasn't trying to attack anyone; she was ready to defend herself.

"Commander Arian Shepard." Chakwas raised her voice a little. This time, Shepard paused and looked at her, a line appearing between her brows, a flicker of comprehension passing across her eyes.

Garrus was the one who realized first that using her first name had gotten through to her. He took one step toward her, deliberately keeping his voice low. "Arian."

She jerked and turned toward him, one hand reaching out to grip the foot of the bed beside her. The blank fury in her eyes faded and she looked around in confusion.

"Arian." He took another step forward and knelt so they were at the same level.

She stared at him for a long, long time, and then recognition flooded her expression. "Garrus." Her voice was hoarse. She closed her eyes and slumped back before jerking forward with a hiss of pain as she irritated her shoulder.

Chakwas hurried forward. "Relax, Commander, let me take a look."

Shepard obeyed, holding still and letting the doctor look her over. Garrus stayed crouched across from her until Chakwas assured them all that she hadn't torn her shoulder open again and helped her get back into bed.

When she administered a sedative, Shepard grumbled something but she didn't resist. She closed her eyes. "Sorry..."

Chakwas spoke up before Garrus could say anything. "There's nothing to apologize for, Commander. It was the drugs used during your surgery, that's all."

Shepard made a noise in her throat, whether agreement or disagreement, Garrus couldn't tell. Her already exhausted body was succumbing to the sedative almost immediately. Chakwas moved her so she was laying on her stomach, keeping pressure off her shoulder, her body going limp. A hank of hair fell over her face and Garrus had an odd urge to brush it back.

He stepped back instead, looking at Dr. Chakwas, who shook her head. "She's had nightmares for as long as I've known her, but that was the worst one yet. Thank you, Garrus, you were a great help."

He nodded without answering, his gaze on their commander.

Maybe it was because so many things haunted his own mind now, but he couldn't help but wonder what was going through Shepard's , what could have haunted her sleep so much to send her into that kind of state?


	20. Plots and Messages

**AN:** I added a little bit onto the last chapter. I started out writing it as the beginning of this one but in the end, it just fit better added onto the end of 19. I am terribly sorry, I really try not to do stuff like that.

* * *

They reached Illium about a week after Dr. Chakwas judged her ready to leave the medbay. Shepard stood behind Joker's chair and watched as they approached it. Her shoulder was still stiff and had that fragile feel that told her she needed to be careful, but the pain had faded to a dull ache. Thank you, Cerberus, she thought sourly. You might have screwed up putting me back together but I heal faster whenever bits of me fall off.

Dr. Chakwas said she'd recover fully and she trusted her. Her little freakout, on the other hand, was a problem she wasn't quite sure how to handle. The idea of hurting herself in a nightmare wasn't a new one with her but it had never occurred to her she would ever have one so badly she would hurt someone else.

Talking to Kelly Chambers was out of the question. Shepard didn't care how skilled a counselor Kelly was, she still answered to the Illusive Man. And Shepard wasn't giving the Illusive Man anymore information on her thoughts and mind unless she could possibly avoid it. Her only comfort was that no one had seen it besides the doctor…and Garrus.

Shepard winced inwardly. She hadn't quite been able to look him in the eye since that night.

She listened with half an ear as Joker sniped at EDI. They sniped at each other often. For the life of her, Shepard couldn't figure out if they genuinely disliked each other or if they were doing that weird flirting/arguing thing you saw in romantic vids.

If it was the latter, she kind of missed the days when she would have found that surprising.

She rubbed the spot between her eyes and bit back a sigh, moving away from the helm to the captain's chair. She'd memorized both of the dossiers by that point but she went over them again anyway, as well as the messages Liara had finally gotten around to answering.

She had no idea what to expect from her.

She'd never been to Illium, but she'd heard plenty. It was just outside of Citadel space and run almost entirely by asari. It reminded her sharply of Noveria, where they'd gone to find Liara's mother a couple years ago, which was _not_ a compliment. It slicked a glossy coat over the same kind of morality Omega wore plainly. Whether that made it more dangerous, they would have to see.

* * *

Miranda wasn't one to brood, she never had been. Sitting around and moping over things beyond your control was a waste of time. She was a woman of action, thank you very much, and would much rather spend her time changing circumstances she didn't like.

Her quiet contemplation of her drink as she sat in a private booth at the Eternity bar was probably as close to brooding as she ever got. So many things had gone wrong all at once, that was the problem. She had never agreed with bringing the quarian into the team, despite the Illusive Man's insistence. Now Shepard had two of her former crewmates to cling to and with the addition of the Justicar and the assassin, the aliens were starting to outweigh the humans, since she thought Subject Zero hardly counted has half of one. Then there was Shepard's setback. Miranda had been poring over her files on Shepard's rebuilding since her injury. She was assured Shepard was still going to recover fully but she still cursed Wilson for slipping up. Everyone had been sure the upgrades and cybernetics embedded into her muscles and skin would offset that damaged shoulder but obviously he'd overestimated it. She might recover fully in the short term, but what other slipups might have snuck past? Bringing Shepard back to full functionality...or at least as fully functional as that psychopath could be...had been extremely difficult and her shoulder coming apart just proved they really had no way of knowing how well she would hold together in the long term.

'Long enough,' she told herself. 'She'll last long enough.'

But she wasn't certain. She hated being uncertain.

And now this...

She would very much have liked to have more information about who had managed to get through Cerberus' defenses, but she just didn't have the time. They were here to get the final two members of their team and it was unlikely they would return to Illium any time soon. She had to move fast and get Oriana away in what little amount of time she had.

She could have requested more time from Shepard on the planet and logically, she probably should have asked for help, but the very thought of needing help galled her and she couldn't stand the thought of admitting to Shepard she needed it. It wasn't just personal dislike (or so she insisted to herself), although she was the first to admit she didn't like Shepard personally and never had. Shepard was, as far as Miranda was concerned, the last person in the world that should have been seen as a hero to humanity.

No, it wasn't just that. There was only one thing in the universe that Miranda put above her duty to Cerberus and it's mission: Oriana. Miranda had no mother and her father had not wanted a daughter so much as a legacy he could use to stoke his own ego; such a man wouldn't be content letting mere nature take its course with his offspring, oh no. Everything about Miranda had been tested and double tested, slicing the DNA that made her up down to the quick in order to make sure she was perfection. Her childhood had been much the same: a constant drive to meet her father's standards and the slow realization she never would.

When she'd discovered he was making another- not just her sister, not just her twin, but a clone -it had not been jealousy that her father was going to replace her that had driven her to take Oriana away, as he no doubt thought. It had been the thought of another girl being raised by him, forced every moment of her life to try and live to Henry Lawson's impossible standards.

She'd taken Oriana away, bargained with Cerberus to hide her, so she could have the kind of life Miranda had never gotten the chance to live.

She couldn't let anyone she didn't trust near Oriana.

Miranda was drawn out of her thoughts by an unfortunately familiar voice. "Lots of soft people around here. Easy to take advantage of."

"Famous last words, Jack." Shepard said wryly.

Miranda cursed softly. She'd thought Shepard was going to head off to talk to Liara T'Soni, what the hell was she doing here?

Even though the small, walled off booth was shielded from view, she drew back to make sure she was out of the commander's direct line of sight.

Fortunately, her asari contact had just arrived. Unfortunately, Jacob had also come along with Shepard and she thought he gave the asari an odd look, as if he recognized her, before turning away.

* * *

"So, let's get back to Kal'Reeger," Shepard said, ignoring Jack as she swung up to the bar and turning her attention back to Tali, much to the quarian's obvious chagrin.

Tali sighed in exasperation. "There's nothing to say. He's a very good soldier and I'm glad you saved him. End of story."

"Except the whole thing about trying to impress him with your sharpshooting and almost busting out a ship's window."

"I was _not_ trying to impress him and why did I tell you about that, anyway?" Tali said grumpily.

"Because despite my best efforts, you continually fail at becoming an abject liar." She swung an arm around Tali's shoulders. "Tali, you did something stupid to impress a guy, I'm so proud of you! You're growing up!"

"Oh, shut up." Tali pushed her away but there wasn't any real anger in the gesture and there was laughter in her voice. "What are we doing here anyway?"

"Getting the lay of the land and waiting to hear back from Garrus or Liara, whoever calls first."

Jack leaned over the bar, eyeing the bartender. "You guys sell red sand here?"

"Nope, it's a pain in the ass." The asari walked over to them. "Not worth the price of the permit."

Jack snorted and sat back in disappointment.

"What the hell do you want red sand for? You're already a biotic," Shepard asked, one eyebrow raised. She never touched the stuff, personally. People close to biotics often got addicted because it allowed them very mild biotic abilities for a short amount of time.

"The high is worth it, though."

"I'll take your word on it." Shepard split a bottle of asari elassa with Jacob, who had admitted to liking it better than human wines on the strict promise she not spread it around. Tali stuck with water and Jack pounded back a couple shots of hard liquor with gusto.

"Everyone is pretty sure it only works on humans, so it's not usually worth it for a small place like this," the bartender said. "Although I had an elcor lover once who said he felt a little hazy around the stuff."

Shepard blinked at her and Jacob jerked back, looking startled. "An elcor?"

"And a hanar," the asari added with a smirk.

"At the same time?" Jack asked.

Tali sputtered, coughing into her facemask.

"No, he came later."

"I bet." Shepard tapped the bar, turning her head this way and that, even twisting her body around so she was almost looking upside down. "Hanar I can see...they have all those tentacles. But an elcor? I'm trying to figure out the mechanics of that."

Jacob sighed. "I really don't want to, Commander."

Shepard ignored that. "How would you get any leverage?"

"Shepard!" It was very hard for Tali to translate a blush into a word but somehow she managed it.

The bartender was clearly enjoying herself. "It's all a matter of angles."

* * *

Garrus knew he was in trouble the moment he neared the bar and heard Jack and Shepard talking.

"According to my aunt, krogan have a problem understanding the concept of a safe word," Shepard was saying, leaning around Tali so she could address Jack.

Garrus glanced at the door, wondering who had let them get going on that subject and also if he had time to make a strategic retreat.

Jacob was applying himself to his drink and making it a point to ignore them, but poor Tali was caught in the middle. She was the first to catch sight of him and he knew a pleading look was being aimed his way. Resigned, he moved toward the bar.

"Aren't you supposed to be the expert on that?" Jack was smirking at Shepard. "I've heard rumors you've screwed every species in the galaxy."

"Highly exaggerated. I've actually only slept with asari and a drell once."

"Drell, eh? What was he like?"

"She."

"Give one of the males a spin sometime," the bartender said, casually cleaning a glass. "They've got these ridges on their…"

"Hi, Garrus!" Tali said a tad louder than was necessary.

Garrus leaned against the bar, speaking quickly to derail the topic. "So, the good news is, I tracked the Justicar down."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "And the bad news?"

"Well, I tracked her down when she threw an Eclipse mercenary through a window. And floated down to the street just using biotics, I might add."

"Okay…"

"And then broke the mercenary's neck, which didn't displease me."

"Any chance we can talk to her?"

"She's in custody right now, but apparently according to her code, she has to break free after a day has passed. So, we can talk to her then…"

"Oh, perfect."

"…or we can find the name of the ship that took away the person she was tracking and I think the detective holding her will let her go. She seemed in awe of her, Shepard. I've only heard stories of Justicars before now but I've never seen anything like her, honestly."

Shepard frowned thoughtfully. "Well, I haven't heard from Liara yet, so I still have no idea where the assassin is. Neither does Cerberus. He's done a remarkable job of staying off their radar."

"I want to meet this guy," Jack said.

"So finding this ship for Justicar Samara seems the best way to go for now. Let's get to it." She rose to her feet and paid the tab, leading the way out of the bar.

"Who is she tracking?" She looked over at Garrus as he fell into step beside her.

"She didn't say, we didn't have much of a chance to talk before she was taken into custody but I think she's interested in joining us, Shepard. Especially if we nail down this ship for her."

"Shouldn't be too hard. Did she mention…"

Shepard paused as someone said her name. They were on a side street, almost deserted, by then. An asari was standing at the mouth of an alleyway. Shepard caught movement behind her and felt Garrus go tense beside her. Tali had spotted it too and moved to her other side. The asari turned toward the alley and said something to whoever was standing there before turning back toward them, holding her hands out to show she had no weapons and stepping forward. The figure in the alley stepped out directly behind her, revealing itself as a male turian with a gray carapace and tan markings. His eyes were narrowed into slits and while she had no doubt he had a gun on him, he wasn't making a move to draw it, simply standing behind the asari as a silent warning if they happened to be thinking of harming her.

The asari stopped several paces away, her lovely face lit by a soft, warm smile. "You are Commander Shepard. I can see your…I guess you can say your aura. I'd recognize you anywhere."

Shepard studied her, searching for something that would give her a sign of who this asari was. She was very much afraid this was yet another person her abused brain had forgotten. "I'm sorry, but if we've met, I don't remember you."

"My name is Kianya Shiar. We have never met before, Commander. But I've seen you through the eyes of another."

Shepard cocked her head, severely puzzled now. Kianya held up a hand as if to ask for patience. "I was asked to give you a message if I saw you. From a friend you made on Noveria. She's certain you'll recognize her."

The asari's head fell back slightly and a slight shudder went through her. The turian, his mandibles drawn tight against his jaw in distress, stepped up and laid a hand on the small of her back to support her. Kianya's eyes went white and when she spoke again, it was still her voice but it had a faint, odd echo that rolled beneath it and her speech was stilted. _"Shepard, we hide. We burrow. We build."_

"What the hell is this, Commander?" Jacob murmured.

" _We know you seek those who soured the songs of our mothers."_

Recognition clicked on in her brain and her jaw dropped in shock. Because she had heard a voice very similar when she'd been on Noveria, though neither Garrus nor Tali had been there with her at the time. That disjointed speech and the echo beneath it had come from a dead asari's mouth then as it came from a live one's now. "The queen. The rachni queen."

" _When the time comes, our voice will join with yours. And our crescendo will burn the Darkness clean. Thank you, Shepard. The rachni will sing again because of you."_

Kianya shuddered again, her eyes becoming clear and blue. She didn't seem at all distressed acting as the voice of the queen. In fact, her expression was almost rapturous. She leaned back against the turian, who put his arms around her and bent his head, saying something to her too low for them to hear. She nodded, her face clearing, and looked up at him, reaching up to stroke her fingers lightly down his mandible.

"What the fuck is this shit?" Jack's voice was sharp. Her fact had the closed, distrustful expression she took on when she was facing something she didn't understand. "What the hell is she babbling about?"

"Give her a chance to recover," the turian snapped, his hold tightening on her.

"Seril." Kianya laid a hand on his arm and stood upright. "It's all right."

"Jack, please." Shepard looked over at her. She had no illusions she had any real control over the biotic and there were times Jack was too much of a risk to take out on some missions but for this moment, she met Shepard's gaze and gave her a curt nod.

Shepard turned back to Kianya. "I've seen her speak through people before, does that mean she's near by?"

The asari shook her head regretfully. "She isn't here, Commander. That message is one of many memories I carry from her."

"Too many," the turian, Seril, muttered.

"I carry them willingly. Happily." She gave him a hard look. "She saved my life. She gave me a purpose." Her eyes took on a happy shine as she looked at Shepard, full of admiration. "They're an amazing people. The galaxy owes you a great debt for giving them a second chance. I know you probably have had doubts about it. I wish…I wish I could show you their colors. The way their song dances along the edge of your soul. Sharing my mind with her was like coming home." Kianya had to visibly shake herself, her gaze faraway, and bring herself back to the present. Her expression darkened. "And I've seen the Reapers through her eyes too, Shepard." Her hand tightened over Seril's and he squeezed it in return. "That horrible, sour tone. And it's getting stronger. They hang suspended and still in the darkness, but they won't for long."

"No," Shepard agreed, her voice hushed. "I know they won't."

Kiyana closed the distance between them and took her hand, ice blue eyes locking with hers. "Always remember we're out there and know the truth. You're not alone, no matter what it may seem. Remember, too, Arian Shepard, that you can't walk this road alone."

An alert of some kind had drawn Seril's gaze to his omni-tool and he looked up suddenly, laying a hand on Kianya's shoulder. "We have to go."

The asari squeezed her hand lightly and let him guide her away, smiling at her before the two disappeared into the alley.

* * *

**AN:** I would like to thank my friend Dustin for lending me his character Seril. You also have him to thank (or blame) for there not being half a chapter of Shepard and Jack bonding over aliens and S &M.


	21. The Justicar and the Prodigal

Shepard had thought her research into Justicars had given her some preparation for dealing with one and, oh boy, was she ever wrong.

Almost all the races had some kind of fighting force. The elcor, for example- Calyn the Citadel's elcor ambassador had been happy to tell her -had a defense force on their home planet of Dekuuna. Their warriors could carry cannons and such on their back any other race would need a heavy vehicle to use.

But the most famous ones were, inarguably, the ones among the Council's races. The salarians had the Salarian Task Force, the turians had…everybody, and the asari had their famous- or infamous, depended on how you looked at it –asari commandos, who were not ladies you wanted to fuck around with. They were trained warriors equally adept at biotics and weapons. Shepard would frankly rather pull her own teeth out than have to face down a squad of them.

That didn't happen often at all, thankfully. Most of her dealings with real asari commandos had been friendly. With limited information for outsiders to be found regarding them, Shepard had been assuming in the back of her mind that a Justicar was basically an asari commando, just with advanced training and a more religious focus.

Garrus had not been exaggerating when he said the officer in charge of holding Justicar Samara was in awe of her, which should have been her first tipoff she had no real idea what she was getting into.

The fact she mentioned the Justicar actually had an oath in their code that swore they wouldn't try to overthrow an existing government should have been another.

Coming face to face with Samara for the first time, even when they had what she wanted, was an unnerving experience.

For one thing, she was definitely a Matriarch of considerable age. Physically, the asari looked youthful no matter what age they were. Shepard didn't recall ever seeing an asari with a wrinkle on her face. No, it was little things that clued you in that an asari was in her Matriarch stage. The way they held themselves, the way they seemed to regard the world with eyes full of secret knowledge. Up until that moment, Shepard would have said Matriarch Benezia, Liara's mother, stood as an example of that kind of reverence inducing aura. This was the woman who had the strength to hold a tiny bit of herself against Sovereign's indoctrination, after all.

But she had never met anyone who was Samara's like and she never would. She was one of the most beautiful asari she'd ever come across, with the kind of face you saw carved into the likeness of a goddess. She didn't just have that aura around her; it seemed to permeate the air in every direction throughout the whole room.

When they entered the police station so they could tell her that her target had left two days ago on the AML Demeter (getting that name had not been as simple a task as it sounded) she was sitting crosslegged in a meditative pose. Floating two feet above the floor. Even Jack's eyes widened at that.

Shepard pondered this as Samara lowered to the floor, the dark energy dancing around her slowly fading. She opened her eyes and they lifted unerringly to lock with Shepard's.

_She could kill me and not give it a second thought_. She felt surprisingly calm at the idea. Samara's eyes were crystal blue and held depths one couldn't even begin to fathom. Her first thought was they were the eyes of a fanatic, but that wasn't quite right. Samara was completely sane, an utterly dedicated warrior but absolutely clear in her thinking. It made her all the more frightening because such a woman couldn't be truly reasoned with and she would never take action without being absolutely certain she was in the right. That made her dangerous in a way few others could match.

Somehow that made it even more unnerving when Samara knelt in front of her, dark energy flaring, and swore fealty to her. She had to, she said, to ensure that there was no conflict between her Code and Shepard's orders. "By the Code I will serve you, Shepard." Her low, rich voice seemed to vibrate through the room. "Your choices are my choices. Your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my code."

_Ooooo-kay._ The detective was gaping and Shepard didn't blame her. The asari gave her a wide eyed look that was similar enough to the one she gave the Justicar it made Shepard even more uncomfortable. "I never thought I'd ever see a Justicar make an oath like that," she said, her voice hushed.

Samara rose to her feet. "If you force me to do something very dishonorable, I may have to kill you after my oath is fulfilled," she informed Shepard, her voice matter-of-fact.

Perversely, that made Shepard feel a great deal less awkward. She wondered if that meant people threatening her life had become commonplace for her. "Naturally."

The detective said she was free to go since her superiors preferred to have Samara gone rather than have to deal with her. She fell into step beside Shepard once the commander introduced the others, who nodded respectfully. Even Jack was a bit more subdued in the Justicar's presence. Garrus, though, cocked his head at Shepard when Samara's back was turned, not making any effort to hide his amusement. Forgetting her awkwardness toward him, she scowled back, daring him to say anything. The turian's mandibles flared in a grin and he looked away.

"I admit, a Justicar's existence is a lonely one," Samara commented as they left the station. "I think I will enjoy working with an honorable crew."

Jack snorted behind them.

Shepard eyed her over her shoulder. "We'll head back to the ship and…"

" _Commander."_ EDI's voice came from her omni-tool.

Shepard paused. "I'm here, EDI, what's up?"

" _I have some information regarding Officer Lawson that I believe you will want to know."_

"Miranda? What's wrong?" Jacob's voice was sharp.

" _Officer Lawson left the ship not long after you did on personal business. She met a contact at the Eternity bar and then proceeded to a cargo terminal. That cargo terminal is currently on security lockdown. As you asked me to monitor gang activity, I picked up messages from several Eclipse gunships in the area, an unusually high number of them. The troops they have been dropping off are centered solely on the warehouse Officer Lawson is in."_

Jacob started swearing. Shepard went completely still, her mind racing. "Shit, Miranda, what the hell did you do?"

" _I have lost track of her immediate position, Commander."_

Could have nothing to do with anything. Miranda had her own agenda behind every action. But Shepard's instincts told her otherwise and there were too many coincidences for her to ignore it. She glanced at the others, her face going hard. "Where is the terminal?"

* * *

She was only human. Miranda had never been more aware of this as she looked down the barrel of a pistol at her oldest friend.

There were only two people on Illium she had been willing to trust with relocating Oriana and the family who had adopted her. Lanteia, her asari contact, was one but Miranda had kept the details from her. Theirs was a close but strictly professional relationship. She'd saved the details for Niket alone because he'd grown up with her and knew what her father was like. He was the only tie to her past life she had bothered to keep. He'd been the only person to help her when she ran from her father all those years ago, putting his life on the line so she could start a life of her own.

Of course, she hadn't told him at the time she was taking Oriana, then an infant, along with her. She'd had to come clean with that fact just recently.

When Lanteia had informed her that Niket had been in contact, stating that Henry Lawson had hired Eclipse mercenaries to come take Oriana, she had not doubted it for a moment. It had seemed perfectly reasonable to her that her father might be watching for her, waiting to grab Oriana. She would draw the mercenaries away and Niket would escort Oriana and her family to the shuttle that would take them away from Illium…and out of her father's reach.

It had never occurred to her, not once, that Niket might betray her. She'd told herself over and over he wouldn't even as she made her way through the cargo terminals, desperate to get to Oriana before the Eclipse mercenaries did.

She'd believed it right up until the moment she'd seen Niket standing beside the Eclipse Captain.

Miranda was barely aware of the mercenary aiming a rifle at her, all her focus on Niket. The overwhelming sense of betrayal shook her to the core.

She, who prided herself on keeping her emotions firmly in check, had let sentiment blind her and now Oriana might have to pay the price.

That thought hardened her, sent ice coursing through her veins. She let Niket babble on about how she'd stolen Oriana from a life of wealth and happiness and wondered if he actually believed that bullshit or if he was just trying to excuse finally giving over to her father. She listened, quietly urged him on because she needed to know one thing. "I knew you had spy programs in your father's system, Miri, so I kept it private," he finally said, giving it to her and sealing his fate as far as she was concerned.

"He doesn't know about Oriana?" Her voice was quiet. If she'd bothered to look, she would have seen the Eclipse captain, Enayla, smirking in anticipation. She knew what was coming.

Generally Niket was an intelligent man, but he was oblivious this time around. "I'm the only one who knows."

_The only loose end._ Miranda nodded once. "This isn't how I wanted it to end, Niket. I'm going to miss you."

It took him a moment to realize what she meant. Probably he thought only he had a right to betrayal. His eyes widened and he took a step back. Miranda shot him point blank in the chest, sending him flying backward. "Figuratively speaking."

Captain Enayla started laughing. "That was nicely done. Too bad recruiting you isn't an option, Lawson. Unfortunately, your father is the one that hired me and I have a shipment to deliver, so…"

Miranda managed to lash out with her biotics a second before the asari did. Enayla went flying backward but Miranda managed to keep her feet. Eclipse mercenaries started to appear around crates and she could make out others moving on the walkways above. Enayla stumbled to her feet, glaring at her. "You're a dead woman. Didn't you wonder why there were so few mercenaries trying to stop you on the way in here? They were waiting for my signal." She held up her omni-tool and grinned. "They're coming in now."

"They _were_ ," a cold voice said from behind her.

Miranda had never thought she would be so glad to hear Shepard's voice. Enayla faltered for a moment then her face tightened in grim lines. "This is Eclipse business." Her gaze was fixed on the main entrance to the terminal where the commander stood. Garrus was standing directly to her right with Jacob, Tali, and Jack standing around her. A tall asari woman in red armor Miranda assumed was the Justicar they'd been sent to recruit was on Shepard's left, her head turning slowly as she took everyone in.

"Kindly point your fucking guns away from my XO and we can all just go home, sugar," Shepard said implacably. Miranda took the opportunity to knock several of the mercs close to her away with her biotics and dodge toward Shepard and the other crew members. She heard a shot ricochet off the floor right beside her. The mercs above them never even had a chance to fire. The asari flicked a hand upward in an almost casual gesture and every merc directly above her- every single one –flew upward so violently they crashed into the ceiling and came tumbling down.

For a moment, everyone in the room just stared. The asari focused on Enayla with a serene expression. Miranda actually saw the captain shudder and didn't blame her a bit. A wave of biotic power the likes of which she had never felt before rolled out from the red armored figure and Enayla's entire frame seemed to fold in on itself. She screamed, a sound echoed by her minions as the wave hit them as well, and tried to bring her rifle up. Garrus Vakarian stepped up and started firing at her, bullets slamming against her shields one right after the other. Miranda wasn't certain whether it was the Justicar's powers or the turian's bullets that took her life but either way she ended up flying backward again and this time she didn't get back up.

The rest of the mercenaries, already under assault by the rest of them, didn't last much longer.

Shepard cast a glance around at all the dead bodies around her glanced up at the walkway above, studying a body that was dangling over the railing. She scratched her head and then twisted in place to look at the Justicar. "Samara? If I do anything that makes you violate your code, I would like to humbly request you give me a chance to make up for it before your oath is done." The dangling body slipped over the railing and crashed to the ground as if to punctuate her statement. "Please."

* * *

"You going to talk to her?" Shepard stood beside Miranda, watching Oriana and her family. They were waiting for their shuttle to finish prepping. In a few minutes she would be gone and, hopefully, safe.

Miranda couldn't make herself look away from her sister. At nineteen, she was almost a woman now, and so beautiful. That wasn't vanity. She didn't find Oriana beautiful because her face was the same as her own. It was the ease and happiness that was so clear on her face. If Niket hadn't been clearly trying to justify himself with that bullshit about the wealth and happiness she'd taken Oriana from, she would have been happy to show him this.

The fact her closest friend had sold her out while the woman she didn't trust at all had saved her was not lost on her. "I apologize, Commander." Her voice was quiet. "I thought I could handle this myself, I trusted the wrong person, I let my emotions get in the way of my judgment. I put the mission at risk."

Shepard turned her head and raised an eyebrow. "Miranda, I realize we don't get along, but I don't want you dead. Not because it would put the mission at risk but because you're part of my crew, and I get cranky when anyone on my crew is at risk. So, yeah, don't do that shit again. Also, that does not answer my question. Are you going to talk to her? You don't have much time left." She looked back at Oriana. "You should at least introduce yourself."

"I worked so hard to give her a normal life. I don't want to interfere." Even Miranda could hear the hesitation in her own voice.

"Right, because staring at her creepily across the terminal isn't going to rouse her curiosity at all." As if on cue, Oriana glanced up and her eyes met Miranda's for a moment. "See? She's going to know something's up anyway and if she's as smart as you…"

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Point taken, Commander." She took a deep breath, irritated to find herself nervous, and crossed the terminal.

Oriana watched her coming, her eyes, exactly like her own, taking in every detail. She paused and smiled slowly. "Hello, Oriana. I'm your sister."

* * *

"I always knew you were a sentimentalist," Garrus commented from behind her.

Shepard didn't glance back. "Shut up, Vakarian."

He just chuckled. She turned to give Miranda and her sister a moment. Garrus was looking down at his omni-tool, keeping his eyes on it even as he spoke: "We going after the assassin today? We might as well, we're on a roll."

"We'll stop by the ship first, I'll decide then. Samara seems more than happy to…Garrus?"

The turian had gone stiff, staring at some message on his omni-tool.

Shepard took a step toward him, alarmed. "Garrus, what's wrong?"

He looked over at her and his eyes were strangely blank for a moment before he blinked, his posture relaxing a bit. "Nothing big, Commander." He just needed to get back to the ship as soon as possible and get one of his contacts on the line. His heart was already pounding and while he reminded himself not to get his hopes up, some instinct told him his waiting had paid off.

They'd found Sidonis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I probably should have brought Shepard in to Paragon Miranda there but, come on, that line was epic. Sorry it's been a bit, I reached a point in my DA story where I was in a fugue state of obsessive writing...and I should be falling into another one for the upcoming chapters of this story now XD


	22. Life and Death

Liara T'Soni told herself that she was only trying to set a stage when she maneuvered to be on a comm call as Shepard came into her office, rather than nervousness about seeing her again. She wasn't sure what changes she was expecting in Shepard. She was certain that she herself had changed greatly and wasn't sure how Shepard would react to it, nor did she know how Shepard would react to the fact she'd been the one to recover her body for Cerberus.

She kept trying to convince herself she didn't care.

Threatening someone who owed her money was certainly a dramatic way to welcome her old friend. Liara was well aware she sounded like her mother- sounded more like Benezia every day, it seemed –the tone and pitch of her voice copied directly from her.

When she shut the screen down and turned toward her former commander, Shepard was sitting in one of her guest chairs, one long leg crossed over the other, watching her with a measuring look in her eyes.

Liara felt the breath whoosh from her lungs and had to fight to keep her step from faltering. They had actually done it. They had brought her back. The giddy relief that flooded her was sobered as she took in her appearance. She rather thought that if there had been more distinctive changes, it might have been less disturbing. She was Shepard and yet…not. And yet her eyes were the same. Those beautiful gray eyes that always seemed able to look beyond her face and into her soul.

"Hello, Liara." Shepard spoke up before she could, her smoky voice low and quiet. "I'd expected to have to dig you up from the ruins on Ilos rather than waiting you out on Illium."

"With Vigil gone and the power dead, there was no more useful information to be found on Ilos," Liara said, shrugging with forced casualness. "Brokering information isn't quite the same as gathering it, but I've found I have a talent for both. Speaking of which, you're here about Thane Krios, yes? He arrived here a few days ago and my sources say he's headed for Dantius Towers."

She paused, waiting for a reaction at that name. Shepard said nothing, simply continued watching her.

She forced a wry smile. "It shouldn't come as a surprise Nassana Dantius is his target here."

"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Shepard's brows were furrowed in what Liara saw was genuine confusion.

Liara stared at her, shocked out of her professional mask. "You don't remember her?"

Shepard shrugged. "My memory has been somewhat unreliable. She's not the first person I've forgotten. It's made for some very awkward conversations, let me tell you."

"She…she tricked us, when we were hunting for Saren. She said she wanted us to save her sister but it was a trick to get us to kill her instead. Not that her sister was any prize..she was a slaver…but still…" Liara was shaken by both the information and the strange easiness in Shepard's tone. "Cerberus…they said they would be able to bring you back completely…" she whispered before she could stop herself.

"According to Miranda, I was woken up way before I was supposed to be, she thinks that might be a factor." Shepard leaned back in her seat and rubbed her temples. "She mentioned I have you to thank for being able to wake up at all."

Liara flinched and sank down behind her desk, settling in her chair. The two women sat in silence for a few minutes, studying each other. Trying to keep up a cool, professional façade had not lasted five minutes and Liara couldn't imagine how she thought it would. Shepard had that effect on people…on her. It was hard to keep yourself separate from someone when you'd literally been inside their mind. And not just the images from the Prothean beacon, either, but things Shepard had buried deep inside her.

_"I'm fucked up, Liara." Shepard stated it, simple and matter-of-fact. "I can guarantee what you saw were only tidbits. I've hurt people. Twisted them. Manipulated them. Killed them. And I enjoyed it. I still do, to some extent. It's something he planted inside me after Mindoir, and I'll never forgive him for it. But it's there and I can't make it go away. I just...try to control it."_

_Liara wondered if she realized she had, unconsciously, admitted to her father twisting her somehow. After Mindoir..had he taken a broken child and twisted her instead of helping her heal? "What kind of a monster would do that to you?"_

_Shepard glanced away, that hint of fear in her there again for a moment- she was truly afraid of him -then gone and under control. "He is a monster."_

_"But you aren't." Liara reached out and gripped her arm. "You're_ _not_ _, Shepard."_

_The commander gave her a half smile. "I try not to be."_

_Considering Liara had backed away from her, she wasn't sure anything she said would convince Shepard otherwise._

Her fascination with Shepard's memories- that dark, feral side of her -had frightened her. There had been a moment between them, a second where the connection between them had been drawn so tight, it had made the air vibrate around them…and she had backed away from it. "I'm sorry, Shepard." She wasn't sure what she was apologizing for. She drew her thoughts together with some effort. "I knew you hated Cerberus but…" _I couldn't lose you._ "…we can't lose you. The galaxy needs you."

"The Illusive Man is an asshole but from what I've seen, whoever it is leading the Collectors is worse. So…thanks, Li." There was genuine warmth in the nickname and her lips quirked into a half smile that was achingly familiar. "If you wanted to get off of Illium and take the fight to the Collectors, you're more than welcome. I don't care what the Illusive Man says."

"I can't, Shepard. Did Ms. Lawson tell you that Shadow Broker was the one trying to sell your body to the Collectors?"

"Yeah."

"I had a…friend. Feron. He helped me track down the Shadow Broker's ship, helped me get you out. He held off the Broker's thugs so I could get away. "I don't have quite the means to take the Shadow Broker down, but I will do it. If Feron's dead, I'll carve his name into the bastard's forehead."

"Liara," Shepard said, looking alarmed. "You're not thinking of trying to take the goddamn Shadow Broker on alone, are you?"

"Finding mercenaries willing to take him on is tricky, but I can do it, Shepard. If you're going to offer to help, I'll remind you that you have enough to deal with without worrying about one man you don't even know."

"If you care about him enough to try and storm the Shadow Broker, that's enough for me, Liara." Shepard's voice was quiet and there was a wounded look in her eyes. "You know it, too. I haven't changed that much and I don't think you have, either."

Liara looked down at her desktop. "I…you're right. Thank you, Shepard. When the time comes I…I'll consider calling on you for it. But for now my work and my place are here."

"All right. Thanks for the intel on Krios." Shepard pushed herself to her feet. "It's good to see you, Liara. Don't take so long answering my messages next time, eh?"

"Wait, Shepard." Liara turned and pulled open a drawer in her desk. "One of the Shadow Broker's cronies had these. If they had more of your things, I didn't get a chance to get to them but I'm glad I managed to get these."

Shepard cocked her head as Liara walked up to her. Her eyes went wide as Liara handed over a deck of cards wrapped in a colorful silk scarf. "Are those Maman's…oh, Li…" she breathed, taking her mother's tarot cards almost reverently.

"I really wish I'd been able to recover your St. Jude medal too. I know how much it meant to you."

"Garrus found it, can you believe it? Some old man either bought it or stole it. I like to think it helped keep him alive."

Something about the way she said it had Liara cocking her head. "Yes, I'd heard about Archangel from my contacts on Omega, but I'm embarrassed to say I had no idea he and Garrus were the same person."

Shepard turned and pulled her into a tight hug suddenly. "Thank you. I don't even have her tattoo to remember her by anymore…"

Liara couldn't have stopped herself from hugging her back if she'd wanted to. "You're welcome, Shepard. Leaving them with some batarian thug on the Broker's payroll seemed almost blasphemous. He didn't agree but a trip across the room convinced him anyway."

Shepard laughed thickly. "You know, Liara, I'm beginning to think the Shadow Broker should start getting very scared…"

* * *

Shepard actually found it refreshing to discover she didn't mind not remembering Nassana Dantius at all, because she was clearly a heinous bitch.

She understood that knowing an assassin was out to kill you didn't put you in the best of moods and in such a situation, hiring protection was a wise decision. But was it really necessary to send Eclipse thugs (those assholes seemed to have a monopoly on Illium's merc trade) down to kill your employees?

"Christ." Shepard shook her head as yet another group of terrified salarians, the construction workers hired to build the tower, scurried down the stairs. Since all the mercs below were dead, Shepard was confident they'd be all right. "If she wanted to lock down her tower, she could have just given them a half day or something."

"In general, the code would compel me to stop this assassin, but I think if he does not kill her, I will have to," Samara agreed.

They were about halfway up to Nassana Dantius' penthouse. They hadn't seen Thane Krios, but several of the salarian workers had mentioned he'd saved them, so he was obviously here.

And what, Shepard mused, was the make of a man who killed people for a living and yet would stop to save a few frightened construction workers?

"Assassin with a heart of gold?" Kasumi dropped her cloak, appearing at Shepard's side. Sometimes Shepard truly wasn't sure if she and Kasumi's thoughts just ran along similar paths or if the thief was just observant enough to pick up on what she was thinking.

"Guess we'll find out." Shepard watched dispassionately as the remaining Eclipse merc they'd been waiting out finally made his move, lunging at Samara with a yell. The Justicar sidestepped neatly and broke his neck with one casual move.

Shepard reminded herself yet again to make every effort not to piss off Samara.

The back of her neck tingled and Shepard turned her head ever so slightly, suddenly certain that she was being watched.

"I just saw something moving in one of the vents," Kasumi said in a low voice. "It's gone now, though."

"Mr. Krios, I presume," Shepard said out loud, though she doubted he was still within earshot.

The drell were a singular race. You rarely saw them outside of Kahje, the hanar's homeworld, since the hanar had brought a portion of their population off their dying planet. Linna, the drell she'd had a brief relationship with, had grown up in the Terminus Systems and Shepard herself had never been to Kahje, so she had little knowledge of how their society worked or their relationship with the hanar.

Since his dossier said Thane Krios had been trained as an assassin by the hanar since he was a child, she was assuming that whatever was between the drell and their saviors was more complicated than, say, the more business like relationship between the turians and the volus. Who knew? Maybe Krios himself would be willing to shed some light on it.

Despite the mercs, she found this easier than pretty much anything they'd had to do on Ilium so far. Find Nassana and they'd find him; it was just a matter of getting there before he killed the bitch and vanished again.

He was an expert on both hand to hand and long range assassinations, rumored to be one of the best in the galaxy, so she was pretty sure she didn't want to know what Nassana had done to bring him down on her.

He was also a biotic, which would bring the number of them, including herself, on the Normandy to a whopping six. Unless you were on an asari ship, that was unheard of.

And that, she realized with a jolt, was actually the _least_ interesting aspect of this squad.

There were few mercs left between them and Nassana's penthouse. If she had any left, she was keeping them close. Shepard glanced up and noted that all the cameras in the hallway had been disabled, the red recording lights all dead. She glanced at Kasumi, who shook her head. "Wasn't me."

"Hm." Shepard wandered up to the door. "Double doors, heavily shielded. Want to bet she got those salarians she just tried to have killed install this for her?"

"Nope, but I bet I can get the outer door unlocked before you get the inner one."

"Even I'm not that stupid." Shepard smirked and went to work. It wasn't a contest and they both knew it but she wasn't _too_ far behind. Shepard threw up her shields as the doors slid open to reveal a slim, purple skinned asari standing behind a desk, surrounded by three mercs with guns trained on them.

The asari's eyes widened with recognition that was not reciprocated. Shepard studied her face and didn't even feel a flicker of it. Whatever place this asari had occupied in her memories before was a blank spot now.

"Shepard?" Nassana's voice was shrill. "But you're dead!"

She really wished she had a credit for every time someone said that to her. Nassana had been made out to be a shrewd businesswoman, but Shepard was frankly shocked when she started ranting at her instead of just telling her mercs to open fire. She was saying something about knowing Shepard would come to kill her but she was tuning her out, debating silently for a moment. She was starting to raise her hand to signal Kasumi and Samara to take the mercs out but leave Nassana- she didn't want to piss the assassin off by stealing his kill –when the man himself finally made an appearance.

He was good. He was _damned_ good. The drell dropped down from the vents above and took out two of the mercs before Shepard anyone even knew he was there. Even Nassana probably wouldn't have seen him coming if she hadn't noticed the fact their attention had shifted behind her.

It still didn't save her.

She spun as Krios snapped the neck of the final merc, seizing her by the back of the neck and jamming a pistol into her stomach. Nassana jerked violently in his hold and went limp.

"Go with the Goddess," Samara murmured tonelessly behind her.

Shepard cocked her head as Krios laid the body out on her desk. "Ah, there you are."

The drell didn't reply, folding his hands and bowing his head over them.

"Is he praying over her?" Kasumi whispered.

She obviously hadn't meant for him to hear, but he did. "Prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken," he said quietly.

"I don't think there's any prayer that's going to save that one," Shepard remarked.

"Not for her. For me."

Shepard fell silent again and let him pray, puzzling over that as she studied him.

The drell were the one race in the galaxy that she would admit to having a gender bias toward; she found the females greatly attractive, but the males not so much. No offense meant to the males, it was just a thing with her. They were reptilian humanoids and were probably bore the closest resemblance to humans next to the asari. Their bodies were covered in brightly colored scales, with ridged frills along their arms and face. They had two sets of eyelids, which she'd found a little freaky at first. The outer one was black, giving their eyes the appearance of black pools. That should have given their gazes less of an impact but when Thane finally lifted his eyes to hers, she could feel him measuring her.

The drell came around the desk, all wiry muscle and bright green scales. "The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone. Take you, for instance. All this destruction…chaos."

Shepard started to reply and checked herself, admitting he had a point. _Touché, sir._

"I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me." Thane turned those fathomless eyes to her once again. "Well…here I am."

* * *

" _Look at this place." Sidonis paced as he gestured out over Omega's cityscape. They were standing on the roof of a building not far from Afterlife, so they could see a great deal of the sprawling, half hazard metropolis below. "Filled with criminals nobody can touch, doing whatever the hell they want."_

_Garrus leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "We can do something about that, Sidonis. Make those bastards think twice before murdering someone in the streets." He nodded back in the direction of Afterlife, indicating the pile of hoods the two of them had just left in a heap on the floor of the club._

_The younger turian studied him thoughtfully. "I'm all for cracking skulls, but Omega's problems are bigger than the two of us. Smalltimers we can handle. We go at the gangs head on, we'll find our own heads on a stick."_

" _That's why it won't be just the two of us. That's why we'll put together a team. We start hitting gangs where it hurts, prove we can get things done, and people- good people –will start lining up to join us." Nostalgia pierced him and he looked away out over Omega again. "Believe me…I've seen it work."_

_For all the fire Sidonis had shown, the anger toward the gangs, he seemed a bit uncertain, thinking over Garrus' words for a long while. Garrus didn't push him, simply watching him steadily. If he was going to show people he could get it done, he might as well start with Sidonis, if the other turian would let him._

" _If you really want to put the fear in them, your squad's gonna need a good name," Sidonis finally said. The words were quiet but the way his mandibles flicked in a smile told Garrus he was winning him over._

_Garrus' mind traveled back to the grateful eyes of an old woman as he helped her up, her hand to her throat where the vorcha unconscious at Garrus' feet had been holding a knife to it a few moments ago._ "You're an angel, sir. A real-life angel."

"Michael is actually a really cool name." _Another woman's voice, low and full of amusement. Shepard had been crouching in front of a little boy they'd just saved from slavers, smiling up at him as he complained about his apparently too common name with a bravado even Garrus could see he was using to cover up how frightened he'd been._ "Have you ever heard of the archangels, sugar?"

_The little boy had shaken his head, his eyes wide. Shepard had lowered her voice, as if telling him a secret._ "They were the greatest of the angels. Protectors of man. The direct hands of God Himself. And Michael was one of them."

"He was?" _The kid had leaned toward her eagerly. Garrus didn't blame him. In fact, he was leaning forward a bit himself, curious. He wouldn't have pegged her for it, but Shepard was a walking encyclopedia of myths and religious stories, something she claimed she picked up from her mother._

"Indeed. He was the leader of God's armies and that, sugar, is really saying something, because the archangels were the ultimate warriors. Every single one of them."

_Garrus looked up at Sidonis again. "Believe me, I've thought of that."_

Garrus lifted his head as his omni-tool beeped. He was sitting on the bench that ran along the wall of the main battery, studying the floor without really seeing it, lost in a morass of memories.

At first, he was pretty sure Sidonis had just been humoring him, but as his words had proven true and more people had joined up with them, his enthusiasm had grown until he was practically the first to throw himself into a fight.

But for all his uncertainty, Sidonis had been the first. The first to believe. The first to fight beside him. The first to take his word that they could change everything…even Shepard hadn't believed that.

In hindsight, that had probably blinded Garrus to a core of weakness in Sidonis that he might have taken better note of otherwise. A weakness that had been hidden by Garrus' own strength and the stronger personalities that started to surround them.

Even if he had seen it, Garrus wondered, what might he have done? He didn't know. Would never know now. He couldn't change his past mistakes, he could only try and make up for them.

He brought up the message on his omni-tool, his blood starting to pound in his veins as he scanned it:

_Hey, Garrus,_

_Your instincts were right, as usual. It took a bit of finessing, but someone that matches the description you sent arrived but unfortunately, he went straight to this guy they call Fade, who specializes in hiding people, giving them new identities. We haven't been able to nail him, he's a slippery bastard. Your best bet for finding your guy is definitely going to be finding Fade. If you do, give him a few punches for me, will you?_

_Good luck, man._

_Ridgefield_

_P.S. Watch your ass, Garrus. Maetra found out you stopped by here and were making inquiries. She got seriously pissed off, then got_ _**doubly** _ _pissed off when she couldn't pin it on anyone. If you come back here, she's probably gonna have eyes on you, so be damned careful._

Garrus' breath came out in a snort. Maetra. Of course, it was too much to hope that old fossil had retired over the past couple of years. She was even more of a hard-assed stickler for the rules than his father and Executor Pallin _combined_. If it had been up to Maetra, Garrus would have been out of C-sec long before he'd ever met Shepard.

Garrus tapped a finger against the bench for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. Shepard. He had to tell her. He couldn't wait until the next time they happened to dock on the Citadel. It wasn't just the idea that Sidonis might get away, either. He would need help, he admitted, to track the bastard down and he wanted it to be her. He couldn't exactly say why it was so important that Shepard be there when he killed Sidonis off, but he just…needed her there.

He glanced over at EDI's console. "EDI? Where is Shepard?"

The AI's voice came over the speakers. _"The commander is currently on the crew deck, Officer Vakarian."_

"Thank you, EDI." He swung out of the battery and strode in that direction. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide his agitation, so he didn't even bother trying.

Shepard wasn't the first person he saw. A figure he'd never seen before was gliding past just as he stepped into the mess hall, a drell. Guess they'd convinced the assassin to join them. Krios was his name, Garrus remembered. Thane Krios.

Krios walked up to where Shepard was sitting with Kasumi Goto and Tali. He dropped something casually in front of the commander. "If you're going to plant bugs, you should hide them better," the drell commented.

Shepard peered at the pile of bugs and poked through them. She turned and grinned at Tali as Kasumi started to laugh. "Five, Tali, that's one more than you found on your first day."

"Hey, that isn't fair! Life Support is a lot smaller than Engineering!" Tali protested indignantly.

The assassin was looking between them with clear confusion now. Kasumi brought up something on her omni-tool. "I'll be happy to add you in to the game if you like."

"Game?"

"We have a continuing race with whoever is Cerberus' bug expert to see how fast they can replace the bugs we find," Tali explained.

"I still haven't figured out who it is, but I'll find out," Kasumi added.

"So far, Kasumi is the only one who has you beat for finding them on your first day." Shepard scooped up the bugs and handed them to Tali.

"I still say you cheated," Tali informed the thief crossly. "You ran all over the ship, Shepard said, you didn't stick to one area. That's cheating."

"That's playing the field."

"Cheating."

"Hey, it could be worse, Tali. Grunt has only found one and he smashed it." Shepard threw an arm around the quarian's shoulders. Tali just grumbled something under her breath.

"I take it Cerberus is determined to keep tabs on everyone." The assassin's voice was dry now, but there as a faint trace of amusement beneath it.

"Either that, or the Shadow Broker. Whichever, we might as well make seeking 'em out fun," Shepard said cheerfully.

Krios angled his head, eying Kasumi. "And what was your number on your first day?"

The thief sat up straight. "Seven, thank you _very_ much!"

"And only because she's a cheater," Tali piped up.

"Five for now, then. We'll just have to see if you end up with the most in the end, won't we?" The assassin definitely sounded amused now. With that parting shot, he turned to go, which brought him face to face with Garrus. The two faced each other curiously, taking stock.

"Garrus." Shepard rose to her feet.

Even faced with someone he'd never seen before the turian's focus shifted to Shepard the moment she said his name, Thane noted. That was very…interesting.

"Thane Krios, this is Garrus Vakarian. Garrus, this guy is probably the only person I've ever met who gets as many headshots in as you do." Shepard came up to them, jerking a thumb at the assassin.

Garrus forced his impatience back for the sake of politeness on this first meeting…and admittedly because his curiosity was piqued. "Sniper?"

"Among other things," the drell replied agreeably.

Garrus supposed he'd have to be a good shot to be an assassin. He turned his head to look at Shepard. "I need to talk to you."

Krios took the hint and nodded to them both before heading back to toward Life Support.

Aware Tali and Kasumi were both listening in curiously, Garrus drew Shepard a bit further away before speaking in a low voice. "I need your help."

* * *

**AN:** That bit between Garrus and Sidonis came from _A Bullet for Your Sins_ , Garrus' Homeworld's comic.


	23. Vengeance

It was Harkin's own fault. That was Garrus' considered opinion.

It came as no surprise to find out Harkin was Fade. The man was a bottom feeding reprobate and always had been. He was one of the first human officers to be accepted into C-Sec and had made a mess of it from the start. Taking bribes, abusing drugs and alcohol. At first, the Alliance's embassy had worked to keep him from being suspended for fear it would reflect badly on humanity, but once more humans had been allowed into C-Sec's ranks, they had withdrawn his support. By the time Shepard had gone looking for him when she'd been trying to track Garrus down, he'd already been suspended.

According to Shepard, they'd found him when he'd made a pass at Ashley. Garrus had been rather disappointed to hear the soldier hadn't punched him out.

He despised Harkin, but Garrus honestly had not intended on being too rough with him. When they'd invaded his hideout, he'd sent Blue Suns mercs after them. That was just business. Sending out LOKI and FENRIS mechs against them? Whatever. Heavy mechs? Nothing they couldn't handle. Taunting them over the speakers? Juvenile, but you couldn't expect more from someone like Harkin.

EDI had come over Shepard's comm and told them he was using the warehouse's overhead carriers to drop explosive crates on them. Creative, but that hadn't been more of an annoyance at first.

But then he'd sent two heavy mechs against them at once. Garrus had been so focused on them that he hadn't been keeping an eye overhead. When one of the crates had slammed down into the ground and exploded, he managed to keep out of range.

Shepard didn't.

She was thrown backward and her cry brought Garrus' attention around just in time to see one of the mechs swipe out at her, sending her flying into a tower of crates.

Harkin must have been watching, because he started laughing over the speakers.

Garrus literally saw red. The rage that had been simmering just below the surface came roaring up. He leveled his rifle and took direct aim at the mech, blowing its head off with one well placed shot. It self destructed and shrapnel flew into the other mech even as it turned toward him. Shepard staggered to her feet and knocked it off balance with a biotic hit, giving Garrus ample time to give it the same treatment he'd given its companion. He darted forward and dragged Shepard clear of the blast, turning so he was between her and the exploding mech. He turned to her, his anger fading into a throb once again as he looked her over. "Are you all right?"

"Zigged when I shoulda zagged," she said, wiping blood from her mouth and giving him a sheepish look. She rotated her bad shoulder experimentally and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

" _Graceful, Shepard. And you think you can take me down?"_ Harkin laughed over the loudspeakers again.

Shepard threw her head back and glared up, her gray eyes fixing unerringly on the control room overlooking the warehouse. Garrus followed her gaze and saw Harkin staring at them from behind the window. She lifted a hand in a languid gesture and beckoned at Harkin, her lips curving into a smile. "Come on out of there, sugar, and let's see," she purred.

Harkin responded by hitting some kind of key on the console and sending more mechs out at them, but he was clearly running out of things to throw at them. Garrus could see his movements were jerky, a sign of rising panic.

Good.

Shepard hopped up over the pallets Harkin had raised in an attempt to block them, tossing a LOKI mech over her shoulder with her biotics almost casually. "I think that control room has a door on the other side," she said quietly.

He nodded. "Draw him out from that side and I'll circle around to the other."

Shepard nodded, weaving around crates to throw Harkin off a bit, letting him catch glimpses of her but staying out of plain view until she reached the entrance of the control room. Garrus peered in through the other door when he heard her voice.

Harkin was already turning from her, running for the other exit. Garrus stepped through the door and slammed the butt of his pistol into his face. Harkin staggered back, gagging, and Garrus helped him along, throwing him against the wall and pressing his arm across his throat. "So, _Fade_ …couldn't make yourself disappear, huh?"

Harkin's breath was whistling through a broken nose. He had to clear his throat several times before he could speak. "Come on, Garrus. We can work this out. Whaddya need?"

The nervous, shit-eating grin that crossed his face made Garrus curl his free hand into a fist, longing to use it. To stop the temptation, he forced himself to step back. "I'm looking for someone."

"Well, I guess we've both have something the other one wants."

That tone of voice…did he really think Garrus had come to bargain with him? Obviously, he hadn't hit him hard enough to make his point. Garrus remedied that by striding back to him and slamming a knee up between his legs. Harkin let out a thin scream and collapsed.

"Ow," Shepard said wryly. "That made me wince and I don't even have balls." She leaned against the wall not far away, looking down at Harkin. Glancing at her was a mistake because he could clearly see the bruise forming along one side of her face, which didn't help his temper. "I'm all for anything that keeps you from procreating, but might I suggest just telling us what we want to know?"

Harkin climbed slowly to his feet. "I still haven't heard what you want."

Garrus stepped closer and took grim satisfaction in the way he flinched back. "You helped a friend of mine disappear. I need to find him."

"I might need a little more information than that."

"His name was Sidonis. Turian. He came from…"

"I know who he is, and I'm not telling you squat." Harkin spat blood on the floor.

Shepard shook her head. "You do so like making things hard for yourself, don't you?"

He sneered at her. "Screw you, bitch. I don't give out client information. It's bad for business."

He saw it coming this time and tried to duck, but Garrus simply moved with him, bringing a fist hard into his stomach and throwing him against the wall. Harkin's head cracked against it and he slid to the ground, looking dazed. Garrus resisted the urge to kick him and brought his foot down on his chest instead, angling so his heel rested against his throat. "Know what else is bad for business? A broken neck." He tried to keep his voice calm, but a snarl rose in his throat. It wasn't just Sidonis he was hiding. He was willing to bet Harkin didn't ask his clients any questions about why they wanted to hide. He helped the Blue Suns infiltrate the Citadel, and who knows how many other people had escaped justice because he'd helped them? How many people had suffered, how many people left without answers or closure because someone who had hurt them was out there under another name? How many rapists or murderers got another chance because of him? Breaking his neck was too good for him, Garrus wanted to haul him back up again and pound on him until every bone in his body was broken. His hands almost shook with the need to do it.

Shepard laid a hand on his arm. It brought Garrus out of a haze of fury. He looked down and realized Harkin's face was purple and he was gasping for breath. "All right, all right, get off me!" he managed to wheeze.

Garrus slowly lifted his foot and stepped back, his hands clenched into fists. Something in his eyes or face must have shown how badly he wanted to keep going, because Harkin was staring at him like he'd never seen him before. "Terminus really changed you, huh, Garrus?" he said hoarsely.

Garrus didn't look away. "No, but Sidonis…opened my eyes. Now arrange a meeting." He jerked his head toward the console.

Harkin grunted and stood up slowly, limping toward it.

As Garrus turned his head to watch him, his gaze swept over Shepard. The wry amusement was gone; now she looked troubled, meeting his eyes for a long moment. He found he couldn't meet her gaze for long, didn't want to think about what this looked like to her. He knew she was worried about him and he didn't have time to convince her there was no need.

"Yeah, it's me. There's a chance your identity may be compromised." Harkin was using some sort of specialized console that displayed no image and only showed a voice pattern, with no actual sound. Garrus drifted closer, staring at the screen like he could burn a hole through it and straight into the man on the other side. He moved into Harkin's view, his pistol out in a warning. Harkin narrowed his eyes slightly. "That's why I'm calling. I'm sending an agent. Where do you want to meet?" He watched the vocal patterns running across the screen and nodded. "All right. He'll be there. Don't worry…I got it covered."

When he shut down the console, Garrus briefly considered just putting a bullet through his brain once he told them where to go. One quick move and he'd never cause anyone harm again.

Harkin, oblivious, strolled toward him, some of his cockiness returning. "It's all good. He wants to meet you in front of Orbital Lounge. Middle of the day."

"In front of Orbital Lounge?" Shepard frowned at him. "Could you maybe rearrange things so we're not in the middle of a crowded fairway full of civilians?"

"He'll only meet in public places, sweet cheeks. I had a feeling it was because he knew someone was after him. Guess I was right."

"Rearranging anything might tip him off," Garrus said. Shepard looked at him, her brow furrowing. "Have some faith, Shepard, no one is going to get hurt."

"Garrus…"

"Look, if our business is done, I gotta be going," Harkin interrupted, starting to back away.

Garrus spun away from Shepard and grabbed him by the throat before he could slither out. "I don't think so. You're a criminal now, Harkin."

Harkin struggled to break free, his calm tone doing nothing to balance out the fear in his eyes: "So what, you're just going to kill me? That's not your style, Garrus." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

It was tempting. It would be so much easier all around and he could be sure he wouldn't warn Sidonis off. Garrus took a deep breath. No, he wouldn't kill him, but he could make it easier for C-Sec to get to him. "Kill you? No. But I don't mind slowing you down a little."

Harkin's eyes widened as Garrus aimed at his knee. Shepard clamped a hand on his elbow the same second he pulled the trigger, dragging his shot wide so the bullet ricocheted off the ceiling. She looked up at him, her face grim. "Don't, Garrus."

Anger at her welled up in him that she would step in for Harkin, of all people. He found himself wanting to shove her away. She must have seen it, because her eyes widened slightly, which was a cold, mental slap of shock. He yanked his arm free and turned to Harkin, shaken for the first time since they'd arrived. "I guess this is your lucky day," he told Harkin roughly.

"Yeah." Harkin glanced at Shepard, brushing himself off. "Let's do this again real soon."

When he looked back at him, Garrus headbutted him squarely in the forehead. Harkin's eyes rolled back in their sockets and he just collapsed on the ground.

He met Shepard's gaze defiantly. "I didn't shoot him." He couldn't stop the sarcasm edging his voice.

Shepard just watched him, her arms across her chest in what looked disturbingly like a defensive gesture. He turned from that look, needing the space, to glare at Harkin. "Sidonis better be there, or I'm coming back to finish the job."

* * *

_His first mistake had been letting her into his penthouse. His second one had been assuming there was nothing a skinny seventeen year old girl could do to him that he couldn't fight off._

_He'd paid dearly for both mistakes._

_Arian shot a look toward him just to make sure he wasn't thinking about getting up again. He didn't seem inclined to. He was curled up on the floor, his hands tucked between his legs. It was probably a mercy that she wasn't planning on letting him live. He might have had enough money to afford the best surgeons in the galaxy, but even the best doctors would probably have a lot of trouble pulling apart the mess she'd made of his genitals and putting them back together. She wouldn't be surprised if his balls were all the way up in his throat._

_She glanced back at the files she was copying. She could have hacked his personal console, but that would have defeated the purpose. Finding out the password wasn't quite as important as making him give it to her._

_His personal comm signaled across the room and she looked over at him. "You can answer that, if you like," she said cheerfully._

_The only answer was a muffled groan._

" _Guess not." She ignored the comm and leaned forward. Yes, this would do nicely. Several of the names in his files she had already known, but there were some new ones too. She frowned a bit. Two of the main warehouses, the ones where they actually held their slaves prisoner, weren't even in the Terminus Systems. They were on Earth._

_Arian tapped the desk as she waited for the rest of the files to copy. That might actually work out. Even Benjamin Creed's reach didn't extend that far. She'd been killing off clients and financiers of her father's slaving ring one by one and she'd damaged it enough he was probably starting to get seriously annoyed. She'd made a dent. Losing good old Kyle on the floor there would be an even bigger blow. She would have to leave the Terminus Systems and sooner rather than later, because she knew her father would eventually catch up to her. She tucked the information into the pocket of her coat and rose to her feet. The comm signaled again and she ambled over to see who was being so insistent. "Martella. Is that the blond I saw you with? She looks a little old for your tastes."_

" _Don't talk to her." His voice was surprisingly strong and she turned to see him glaring at her, struggling to get to his feet. "Don't even talk_ about _her, you little whore."_

" _Aww, is it love, Kyle? Is she your one and only…with the occasional little girl on the side?"_

" _Fuck you."_

" _Not for any amount of money. Even little whores have standards. Not that you could perform anyway." She walked over to where her backpack was and dug into it, withdrawing a noose made of thick wire. She tugged on it to make sure the noose was set properly. "A bit primitive. But then again, so are you."_

_He tried to stand and moaned in agony, falling back to one knee. "You can't…"_

_She gave him a bored look. "I do a switchback thing between quick death and painful death unless someone really deserves it. The last guy got a bullet in the head so I'm afraid that means you get the painful. Sorry."_

" _Self righteous little cunt." He knew better than to beg for mercy by that point, so he kept up with the insults. His face was swollen and purple from bruises, his lips fat from blows, but he managed to slur the words out. "Your father was behind all of it…yeah, I know who you are. You were helping run the ring same as me."_

" _And now I'm trying to break it, and you aren't. So, morals aside, I think we can agree we're on opposite sides of the line."_

" _Crazy bitch."_

" _That's what the last guy…what was his name? Dex? That's what he said too."_

" _Dex?" He sounded shocked._

" _Don't blame him, Kyle, you'd have tossed him to the wolves too, if your positions had been reversed."_

" _Dex? What the hell are you talking about? Dex was just a bookie. He had nothing to do with any of this."_

_Arian went still and turned her head to regard him distrustfully._

_He stared at her for a long minute and then started to laugh harshly. "Not so fucking easy to pass judgment when you're killing innocent people too, huh?"_

_She stared at him coldly for a long minute before she threw a stasis field around him, silencing his laughter. She stood, staring at him, wondering if it were true. She'd been so sure…_

_Arian moved forward, her lips curling, dragging a chair behind him and wrapping the wire around the back rungs of it, metal scraping against metal. She released the stasis field and dug her fingers into a handful of his thick, bushy hair, yanking his head back. He squealed in pain, the sound choked off as she hooked the noose around his head and drew it tight. She let him go, using her weight to counteract his, drawing the wire tight until it was digging deep into his throat. He sank slowly, clawing at the wire, his tongue protruding almost comically as his face went from red to purple to blue. She watched him the whole time, her face expressionless, her eyes burning._

_When he was finally dead, Arian stood up, letting his body slump, the chair half fallen over him._

_Was it true? It didn't matter, she told herself, trying to fight the unease growing in the pit of her stomach. Even if it was true, the guy had been a scumbag, and probably had done worse stuff, if he was mixed up with guys like Kyle._

_Probably._

_She tucked everything back into her backpack and swung it onto her back. She tried to ignore the tiny voice, the first hint of doubt to pierce through her rage and determination. The voice asking that if Dex had been innocent and she hadn't known it, how many others might have been?_

Dex, to her knowledge, had been the only one at the time. He'd been a sleaze, but she was now willing to admit he hadn't deserved to die. And there had been one more on Omega before she'd finally headed to Earth. She had never known the young man's name…he'd just been passing by in the exact wrong place at the exact wrong time. Walking home from work? From visiting his mother? She would never know. The bullet she'd fired had been meant for her father, not him, but it was his life that had been taken anyway. What had it been like, she sometimes wondered, to feel the pain of a bullet plowing into your chest, and look up to see a stranger's face at the other end of the gun? On Omega, did you bother to wonder why?

At that particular moment in time, she'd been no different from the criminals Garrus had worked so hard to bring down.

When she'd gone to Earth and found the location of the two warehouses, she'd killed the men in charge of each and notified the police. She'd turned herself in for two murders, but in her mind, it hadn't been for the two dead men on Earth.

Garrus slapped the dash of the rapid transit, dragging Shepard out of her thoughts. "Harkin's a bloody menace. We shouldn't have just let him go. He deserved to be punished."

"If C-Sec picks him up with a bullet in his leg, it'll just add to his story." She turned her head to study him. When he just looked at her, her unease ratcheted up a notch. "Garrus, if C-Sec gets to him, what to you think are going to be the first words out of his mouth?"

Garrus' drew back, his mandibles tight. "I didn't bother to think about it."

"You aren't thinking at all." She flat out said what was on her mind. "We don't want Harkin slowed down. In fact, I don't want Harkin picked up at all until it's all over and we're off the Citadel." She brought up her omni-tool somewhat reluctantly and sent a message back to the Normandy. The silence in the cab stretched tensely. When she glanced at Garrus and realized he still didn't grasp what she was getting at, she shook her head. "Harkin's going to try and save his own skin by telling them a fascinating story, a dire warning about something very exciting that's going to happen outside of Orbital Lounge in the middle of the day." _And if you were thinking straight about any of this, you would have already taken that into consideration._ Which was the heart of the issue. She didn't give a fuck about Sidonis. Hell, she would put a bullet through his skull herself given half a chance. But Garrus wasn't thinking this through, and that scared her. He wasn't planning, he wasn't thinking about anything, so focused on the idea that if Sidonis was dead, everything else would be fixed.

Garrus looked away. "It will be all over by the time they get him in for questioning."

"That's not the point, Garrus…" Shepard paused as she received a message back, turning her attention to her omni-tool.

"Who are you talking to?" Garrus said sharply.

"Thane."

"Why?" Anger edged into his voice.

"What do you think? We need his eyes. You're about to assassinate a man in the middle of a crowded place full of civilians in broad daylight. It would kind of render the purpose moot if you got arrested two seconds after he goes down." She glanced at the drell's message. "He says he's already seen fourteen flaws in security a skilled assassin could exploit, by the way. And eight of them were here ten years ago."

She lowered her omni-tool and turned back to find Garrus' eyes on her again. "What do you want from me, Shepard?" His voice was low. "What would you do if someone betrayed you?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Again, you mean?" He was the one person in the galaxy who knew the truth about her father. It had haunted him to no end back on the old Normandy to wonder if his commanding officer had been part of a slaving ring that specialized in selling children. When he'd asked her about it, she's sworn to him she hadn't actually known and had done all she could to break the damned thing once she had. It had been such a relief, more than he could ever know, that he had believed her.

"Who's going to bring justice to Sidonis if I don't?" Garrus' voice was even quieter now, and the pain that rode beneath it twisted her heart into a knot. "Nobody else knows what he's done. Nobody else _cares_ , Shepard."

"I know."

"I don't see any other option."

"I know." Shepard rubbed her hands over her face, wondering if someone else should have come along instead of her. She was being pulled too many ways at once. She realized Garrus didn't trust anyone else but she was having as hard a time as he was untangling her emotions from her common sense. Because it was Garrus. It wouldn't have been an issue with anyone else. "I _know_. I did the same thing, Garrus, remember? And look at all the good it did me." She looked at him desperately. "What I want from you is for you to look back at this and think of it as an ending, not a beginning. What I want is for you not to look back at a trail of bodies and wonder how many civilian casualties," she used that term deliberately, remembering his rule from Omega, "are among them." She shook her head and forced herself to continue, forced herself to speak from memories she tried so hard to forget. "It's easy, so easy to lose yourself, Garrus. You give yourself over to that rage once and it gets easier to give yourself over to it the next time. You don't think anymore, you just act. I don't want it to be years later when you look back and realize you became the same thing you fought so hard before."

Silence. Garrus had turned his head away to look out the window again as she spoke. She couldn't read his expression in through the reflection. "I appreciate your concern," he said finally. "But I'm not you."

She flinched, stung, and looked away, staring down at her hands like she was studying the blood there that wasn't on his. Yet.

_And maybe there never will be, Shepard, did you ever think of that? Maybe he's stronger than you and you're just projecting your own weaknesses, your own guilt, onto him._

Maybe. Maybe it was the scars on her own soul that were twisting her view. Because Garrus' was pure, wasn't it? Despite what he might think, he was a truly _good_ man, right down to the very core of him. Better than she'd ever been.

No, he wasn't her. He wasn't a monster. She believed he never could be. Would take a hundred scars to ensure that, if she could. "This isn't you, either."

"Really? I've always hated injustice. The thought that Sidonis could get away with this…" Garrus' voice shook a little and he waved a hand as if shooing that thought away. "Why should he live when ten good men lay in unmarked graves?"

She didn't answer. She didn't _have_ an answer.

The rapid transit came down on a dock overlooking a long walk filled with shops, bars, restaurants…all leaning more towards adults rather than family friendly, so at least there was a good chance they weren't going to end up traumatizing a bunch of kids for life by killing a guy in front of them. Garrus got out and scanned the area, his eyes narrowed. "I can get a clear shot from over there."

"What do you want me to do?" Shepard's voice was subdued.

"Keep him talking and don't get in my way. I'll let you know when he's in my sights."

"You mind if I talk to him first?" Where the hell that came from, she had no idea. What did she have to say to Sidonis?

"Talk all you want, but it won't change my mind." Garrus moved toward the other end of the balcony. "I don't care what his reasons were. He screwed us. He deserves to die."

* * *

Thane watched the turian move into position. It wasn't a bad one, it would give him a clear shot almost anywhere on the fairway, but it was bit exposed. Still, he could get away easily.

He waited until he saw Shepard. When she paused and scanned the area, looking for him, he stepped into view. She was tense, he noted. There was a tightness around her eyes that showed it clearly. Whatever her reasons for helping Vakarian with this, she wasn't happy about it.

Interesting.

"Not the first mission I would have chosen, Thane," she said as he fell into step beside her. "I would understand if you don't want to get involved."

"On the contrary, I think it quite fitting that this first mission calls for my expertise," he replied easily. "There's a turian sitting on the bench there. Green markings. Red and green clothes." She looked at him in surprise and he shrugged. "He looks distinctly nervous and very unhealthy." Drawn, sickly, his eyes oddly blank despite his nervousness. All signs, in Thane's experience, of a guilty man. Shepard had not gone into many details, but she'd told him that his man had betrayed Garrus and was directly responsible for the deaths of his men. Considering he was right in the line of the turian's fire, it hadn't been hard to figure out this was the one they were looking for. The drell kept his voice low. "There's a C-Sec team stationed at each of the entrances and two patrolling the area at intervals, one turian and one human. They make a pass every half hour. The last one passed fifteen minutes ago."

"Thanks, Thane, I saw one of them, but I didn't catch the other." She studied the turian for a long moment before moving toward him. "If you could keep an eye out for them…"

The drell nodded and leaned against the railing with supposed casualness.

If Garrus had any doubts that Thane had the true sensibilities of a sniper, they were put to rest when the drell angled himself perfectly to make sure he wasn't in Garrus' shot. He focused on Sidonis as he came up beside Shepard, who was leaning against the railing and looking down into the levels below. His movements were jerky, his eyes moving constantly, and Garrus noted that the drell was correct. The other turian looked awful, like he was deathly sick. And maybe he was. _I've got the cure for that._

"Let's get this over with," Sidonis said, his voice clear through Shepard's comm.

"Sidonis." Shepard's voice had taken on a lazy, dangerous edge.

"Never use that name," the turian snapped. There was no real anger in his voice. He was too afraid to be angry. "How did you know it, anyway? How did anything get compromised? Who…" He looked around again. "Who found out who I was?"

"I think you know." Shepard finally looked at him and Sidonis took a step back, confused and even more afraid.

"You aren't…I know you from somewhere. Who are you?" he stammered.

"Right now I'm the only thing standing between you and a hole in your head," Shepard replied quite calmly.

Garrus cursed under his breath. He hadn't really believed she'd been serious about wanting to talk to the bastard. "If he runs, Shepard, I'm taking the shot," he snarled.

Below, Thane took the opportunity to take in their surroundings. They weren't drawing too much attention yet, just a couple of curious glances, but the longer they were out there, the more chances there were something would go wrong. Shepard had to know that. He'd seen enough of the woman to know she was no fool, so he couldn't understand why she was drawing this out.

Unless she didn't want Garrus to kill him…

Fascinated despite himself, the drell kept one eye on their surroundings and the other on the scene in front of him.

Sidonis had frozen, apparently taking Shepard's word for it, which kept her firmly between the two turians. "Look, I didn't want to do it," Sidonis was babbling. "I didn't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice." Every muscle in his body was drawn tight. Garrus could hear the rage in his own voice.

"They got to me. Said they'd kill me if I didn't help. What was I supposed to do?"

Why was she bothering to even _listen_ to this? "Shepard…"

Shepard said nothing. Did nothing but look at Sidonis. Garrus couldn't see the expression on her face but he saw the exact moment Sidonis put two and two together and realized who he was talking to. His mandibles pulled tight against his face, his fear turning into pure terror for a moment. And why not, Garrus thought with grim humor. It must have been like seeing some kind of ghost come to punish him. After a moment, the tension just seemed to run out of him. "I know what I did. I know they died because of me, and I have to live with that." He leaned against the railing as if it were the only thing holding him up. "I wake up every night…sick…and sweating. Each of their faces staring at me…accusing me."

_Killing him would actually be an act of mercy,_ Thane Krios thought. His attention was drawn by a new C-Sec patrol, three officers who had not been through before. He didn't like the way their heads turned to look right at them as they passed.

"I'm already a dead man," Sidonis said. Garrus, who could hear the sub-vocals in his

voice, could hear he believed it. "I don't sleep. Food has no taste. Some days I just want it to be over."

"Peace is what you want, and no one here can give you that," Shepard finally said.

She pushed away from the railing and stepped back.

They stood in a frozen tableau for a long moment before Thane came up beside Shepard and said urgently. "There's a new patrol, Shepard. They just circled past us for the second time. They're definitely focused on you." Garrus tore his gaze away from Sidonis and noted the drell was right. There were three officers talking and they were glancing back at Shepard, talking into their comms.

"So we'll let them follow me, then." Shepard spared one glance up at Garrus and motioned to the drell. Sure enough, the second they disappeared around a corner, that patrol followed them, leaving Garrus in the clear. If he moved quickly after he took the shot, he could be out of there before anyone had a chance to react.

Garrus peered through his scope again, the crosshairs of his visor focusing on Sidonis, who was still standing at the railing.

_You haven't paid enough. You can never pay enough._ His men had deserved so much better. It wasn't _right_ that Sidonis still had his life.

If you could call that living…

Garrus' finger curled around the trigger. He found himself willing Sidonis to move, to try and run. He didn't, simply standing there with his head bowed, as if waiting for the shot.

And perhaps hoping for it…


	24. Catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have had this scene already in my head when I started ME1....

They'd agreed to use a different rapid transit from the one they had taken to head back but Shepard and Thane circled a bit to get rid of the patrol. They broke away when they realized they weren't doing anything interesting. Shepard glanced over her shoulder and blew out a relieved breath when she realized they weren't following anymore. "There we go. You think someone called them in because of the disturbance?"

Thane shook his head slowly. "I don't, actually…it wasn't that big of a disturbance. You should be careful, Shepard."

"I will. If you want to head back to the ship, you can go ahead." He knew what she wasn't saying, was that if there was going to be trouble with C-Sec, he needed to be clear of it. "And thank you, Thane."

"Might I ask you something first, Shepard?" He studied her, his black eyes unreadable.

"Sure."

"You didn't want him to kill that Sidonis, so why did you step out of the way in the end?"

Shepard cocked her head, giving that question some thought. "Because…" she said slowly, "if it wasn't a decision he could make without me standing in between them, it wasn't really _his_ decision. If that makes any damn sense. I didn't want to take the choice away from him, I just wanted him to step back and think before he did it."

"I understand." He did, too. Possibly even better than she did. The drell nodded and moved toward the rapid transit. He hadn't had a chance to simply step back and observe people without planning to kill them and this had certainly been an interesting experience.

 _A human in love with a turian,_ he thought with bemusement. _Now I really_ have _seen everything._

* * *

Shepard leaned against the wall, running a thumb lightly over her swollen lower lip as she contemplated Thane's observation about that patrol. He was right. She would have understood if an officer had come over to see if there was trouble, but a patrol of three suddenly showing up? There was something more going on here.

She stirred and looked around for Garrus, a thread of unease coursing through her. It had been a while and he wasn't answering his comm. Maybe he'd just gone straight back to the ship. He was probably pissed off at her whether he'd killed Sidonis or not. She tapped her comm. "EDI?"

" _Yes, Commander?"_

"Thane is en route back to the ship, but has Garrus come back yet?"

" _No, Commander. Officer Vakarian is still on the Citadel, though I am unable to pick up on his exact location."_

"Any news from the security channels?" _Like a warrant out for our arrest?_

" _Not at the moment, Commander."_

"Thank you, EDI." Shepard signed off and leaned back against the wall again. She'd give it a few more minutes and then try to pick him up on the comm again.

"Loitering is not a serious offense, but it is frowned upon." A cool, duel-toned female voice came from her side.

Shepard drew herself up, turning to face a turian in C-Sec blue moving toward her. "I'm waiting for someone," she said coolly.

"I know."

Okay…this was trouble. Shepard kept her posture relaxed as she took a closer look at the officer. She was considerably older than Garrus. Late forties, early fifties, maybe…which increased the chances she was a veteran of the First Contact War, oh, yay. Dark carapace and gray colony markings. Cold, _cold_ green eyes. Moved like a predator, but most of them did. And she was pissed off. Granted, many C-Sec officers had perfectly legitimate reasons to hate Shepard's guts and she was the first to admit it but she didn't think the dislike that was clear in this woman's eyes was professional.

She stopped a few paces away from Shepard, letting the silence stretch out, trying to intimidate her; but between the Illusive Man and Aria T'Loak, it was getting pretty hard to impress her with that trick. Shepard just met her gaze and kept her mouth shut.

The officer's eyes narrowed into slits. "You've had a busy day, Shepard. We picked up a criminal we've been after for a long time. Fade, his name is. But I'm sure you already knew that."

Damn, damn, damn. Someone from C-Sec must have been tailing them and gotten to Harkin before he could get away. At least now she knew who had probably sent that patrol. She leaned against the wall and made herself keep quiet, willing Garrus to stay away and knowing perfectly well he wouldn't.

She made the mistake of taking her eyes off the officer for a moment to look for him. A three fingered hand circled one of her wrists and tightened, tearing a startled gasp from her throat when she felt the tips of sharp talons actually pierce her skin. She stared at the turian in shock. It wasn't just dislike in her eyes now, it was close to hatred. "The best of humanity, some people were calling you. Like that's a compliment. Before you betrayed the Council _and_ your own people."

Shepard looked down, watching blood trickle down her wrist and across her palm. She felt dark energy dancing over her skin and dialed her anger back. If she tried to pull free or throw the officer back and she would probably end up tearing her arm open completely and, she was suddenly sure, was precisely what the woman wanted her to do.

She met those green eyes again. _She isn't here to arrest me or she would have done it already._ She steeled herself and forced her voice to remain semi-calm and sharply polite. "I'm afraid, madame, that you have the advantage of me. And you are?"

The turian's eyes flashed. "Maetra. That Vakarian brat wouldn't have mentioned me, I'm sure."

"He might have, but my memory isn't the best these days." Shepard glanced around. This wasn't a well populated area, but there _were_ people around. She shifted ever so slightly and took a step back from Maetra, hoping if someone took notice of a C-Sec officer manhandling a civilian it might get her to back off. She _really_ wanted her claws out of her arm before…

" _Let her go."_

 _Hell._ Shepard winced and turned to face Garrus. She moved to get between him and Maetra, heedless of the fact it made the bitch's claws dig in deeper, and held out her other hand toward him. "Don't, Garrus."

"Vakarian," Maetra said at the same time. It was actually impressive how much contempt she could put in one single word.

Garrus stopped, his eyes snapping blue fire as they fixed on Maetra's claws. Shepard had known there was no way he was fully calmed down. Maetra might not have been able to provoke her, but she was very afraid she could manage it with Garrus. He looked more homicidal toward Maetra at this moment than he had with Sidonis. Garrus took one step forward. "Let go of her _now_ , Maetra."

"Watch your tone, Vakarian. Your father isn't around for you to hide behind and _she_ ," the nodded toward Shepard, "can't hide behind being a Spectre anymore. Everyone knows she's not a real one, despite what's said along Council channels."

"Garrus." Shepard said his name sharply and he focused on her. She kept one hand held out toward him. "Ignore her. She can't do anything."

"Despite what you might think, Commander, some of us don't agree you're above the law," Maetra said.

Shepard's head snapped around and she glared at her. "So arrest us already. Obviously you've been having us followed so obviously you have some reason to come and bring us in, or you wouldn't have bothered coming down here. Right?"

There was a long, tense moment of silence. Maetra's eyes narrowed into slits and Shepard knew she was right. She wouldn't arrest them because she had no cause for it. It was against the rules. She was trying to get them to break them openly so she'd have an excuse to bring them in. Why, exactly, she was so pissed off at them, Shepard wasn't sure.

"You know, Shepard, she doesn't believe in the Reapers." Garrus' voice was very quiet. "She thinks we made it up, you and I. She's afraid to believe it, same as everyone else on the Citadel."

Maetra glared at him and suddenly tightened her hand, digging her claws in deeper. Garrus growled.

 _Fuck this shit._ Shepard took on a role she despised and bent at the waist a bit, letting out a yelp that echoed through the air and sound pathetic, she hoped. Both turians looked at her in surprise and she stumbled a bit, her hair hanging in her face, stretching her arm out so Maetra's claws in her arm were very clear.

It worked. Several people paused and started paying attention and Maetra noticed. She gave Shepard a look of deep disgust and let go of her, withdrawing her claws. Shepard straightened up immediately and retreated to Garrus' side, giving the C-Sec officer a cheeky smile. She literally saw the other turian's temper flare but Garrus stepped between them, nudging her toward one of the rapid transits. "Always a pleasure, Maetra."

* * *

Garrus hit the button that would guide the transit to the docks. Maetra was still standing and watching them as it rose and flew away. "Sorry, Shepard…she was a supervisor from my C-Sec days and she hates humans."

"Looks like she's more focused on you…" Shepard was digging around in her armor, distracted. "You better be careful, Garrus, that one seems like she's one to hold a grudge."

"Oh, yes." Garrus frowned and leaned back in his seat, wondering. "Was she one who…"

"Sent that patrol? I really think so. They apparently picked up Harkin, so she might have been tailing us from the start."

He nodded slowly and fell silent, going over that. Obviously he'd underestimated how many enemies he might have left behind within C-Sec. He'd known they were there. Turians who thought he'd disgraced his father or, like Maetra, were pissed off because he was running with a human. Especially now that said human was running with Cerberus. That was an angle he hadn't considered.

The air in the cab was tense. Garrus was waiting, expecting every moment for her to ask whether he'd killed Sidonis.

It wasn't until they were halfway to the docks that he slowly realized she wasn't going to.

"You have any medi-gel, Garrus?" Shepard was cradling her arm against her chest. "I don't have enough to take care of this. Bitch."

Garrus stirred and turned toward her, feeling guilty that he hadn't even given those wounds a thought, too wrapped up in his own musings. "Here." He took her arm, turning it so he was cradling her hand in his. Maetra had really done a number on her. There were three deep gouges on the underside of her arm. Anger swelled in him at the sight of it and he tamped it down, drawing a large tube of medi-gel from his armor. "You took a lot of punishment today for my sake, Shepard. Don't think I didn't notice that." He gently cleaned blood from the wounds and started smoothing medi-gel over it. "…You haven't asked if I killed him."

"It doesn't matter. I just wanted you to be absolutely sure before you did." Her voice was just as quiet. Shepard watched his fingers as they stroked over her arm, hypnotized by the soothing rhythm of it. She felt strangely breathless.

Those words struck a chord in him he'd never felt before. From the moment they'd come to the Citadel, Garrus had assumed Shepard simply couldn't understand what had happened, what he had been through and he was wrong. She was probably the only person in the entire galaxy that understood. That truly knew him. He looked over the past few hours with new eyes and found himself lingering on one particular scene. The sight of what Maetra had done to her made it sting even deeper. "Shepard…Shepard, I would never hurt you. You know that, don't you?"

"What?" She sounded startled, which made something in him ease up. "Of course, Garrus, why would you even ask that?"

"When you stopped me from shooting Harkin…" He could see the way she'd been standing clearly, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes wary.

"Oh. I knew you weren't going to hurt me, Garrus. I just wasn't sure if you were going to go for Harkin again and I really didn't want him to have anything more to use against you." She chuckled suddenly. "Although I'll admit now…I was enjoying watching you knock him around a little too much."

There was a strange throb in her voice that made a flare of heat go through him. Even with her wounds taken care of, his fingers trailed lightly over her wrist and across her palm and fingers. Humans had five thin fingers instead of three thick ones, like the asari did. Shepard's were long and tapered into small oval nails with only a layer of soft, thin skin protecting them. He'd never noticed how delicate they looked. You wouldn't look at them and think she could kill people in a hundred different ways with them, but spirits knew she could. Effortlessly.

Garrus realized what he was doing with a jolt and he drew his hand back, looking at her instinctively, embarrassed.

She was watching him, her beautiful eyes dark in a way he'd never seen before as they locked with his. He became sharply aware that the readings on his visor were registering a rise in her heartbeat and breathing and an even more intense awareness that fear or anger had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Shepard swayed toward him ever so slightly and Garrus had the urge to drag her against him. And do what, he didn't know. He just had a sudden deep desire to feel the length of her body against his; a jolt of lust that was so sharp it was almost painful.

They drew back at almost the exact same moment with identical expressions of shock and the same thought echoing between them.

 _What the_ hell _was_ that _?_

Shepard licked her lips, her injured arm curling against her chest, her fingers resting on her throat, her eyes wide. "Garrus…" Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Garrus was suddenly quite sure if he had, in fact, dragged her against him, she wouldn't have protested, which just added another shock on top of the rest.

Fortunately…or unfortunately, spirits, he really didn't know…the transit set down at that moment, jolting them both.

Miranda Lawson was waiting at the station for them, her arms crossed over her chest. Shepard let out a shuddering breath and glanced out the window as the Normandy's XO came strolling up to the car, pushing the door open and stepping out to meet her.

"I thought you would want to know that we've already made certain no charges will be brought against either of you," Miranda informed them. "The Illusive Man contacted me about it. We're going to try and acquire Harkin's network." She sounded decidedly smug.

"Of course." Shepard's voice was dry as they headed back to the Normandy.

Garrus said nothing, suddenly eager to get back to the Main Battery and collect his thoughts. He was deeply embarrassed by how very aware he was of Shepard, even when she was several feet away.

It was adrenaline, he insisted to himself. It was adrenaline and the tangled emotions of the day, that was all. He was reading _way_ too much into it.

He might have been able to continue convincing himself of that if he hadn't glanced at Shepard one last time before he headed to the Main Battery and caught her gaze one last time. She was studying him speculatively, her gray eyes hooded, making his breath catch again.

It was more than that and they both knew it.


	25. Confessions

_Now what?_

Shepard stood at her desk, staring at her console screen without really seeing it, her fingers tapping out a rapid tattoo on the desktop. It was a question she had been asking herself quite often since they'd left Illium.

She had everyone she needed, gotten everyone she had set out to recruit, which was something of a miracle. Now she wasn't entirely sure what the next step was. For one thing, the Illusive Man still hadn't discovered a way to get through the Omega 4 relay, the mass relay the Collectors used. No one except the Collectors had ever gone through it and come back again, which was a pretty good sign no one except the Collectors could get through it and live.

Shepard wouldn't have taken them through even if they had a way. They weren't a squad, not yet. Every instinct she had was telling her if she tried to take them against the Collectors now, they would fail and probably all die. They needed time to form into a cohesive group or at least until she was relatively sure some of them would be more interested in shooting down the Collectors than each other. She needed to give them a chance to settle in, ready themselves for it. The Illusive Man might have called it a suicide mission, but Shepard actually had every intention of getting them through alive. She had every intention of getting _all_ of them through it alive, as a matter of fact, because why the hell not? Even Thane, she didn't care if he was already dying. Poor guy. Dr. Chakwas had told her Kepral's Syndrome, the disease that was killing Thane, was common among the drell, the result of a species from a dry planet being transported to a planet that was almost all water.

There was another, simpler reason for waiting as well. The Normandy had good guns and shields but not the best. She wanted the best. Maybe some upgrades to the ship systems as well. Jacob was looking into it for her and of course, Garrus was still working on what kinds of guns to put in. She really needed to talk to him about that.

She really needed to talk to him at all because they hadn't been doing much of that since they'd left the Citadel. They'd been circling around each other warily since they'd had that…moment.

Fucking hell.

Shepard pushed away from the desk, running her hands through her hair and cursing herself for ten different kinds of fool. She was being stupid, utterly stupid. It was just adrenaline and hyped up emotions, she told herself (with no idea how similar her thoughts were to Garrus's) and that was all. She was making way too much of it and it was stupid to be uncomfortable around one of her closest friends because of it.

She _really_ needed to get laid, that was it. She'd only had the company of her own fingers since she'd been resurrected. It wasn't unusual for her to go for long periods with little to no sex when she was out on missions or on a ship but they were interspaced with shore leave times where she generally went out and found herself someone who could screw like an animal all night every night. But any free time lately had been spent dealing with her family or something that had come up for the mission. It was no wonder she was ready to throw herself at poor Garrus.

Shepard realized she was pacing in circles around the room, started to stop herself and then just gave up and continued on, rationalizing with every step. Frontline trauma care for both humans and aliens had been part of her N7 training, so she knew the basics of turian anatomy. She and Garrus weren't even physically compatible, for fuck's sake. They had entirely different systems and their bodies were built in entirely different ways. They couldn't even _have_ sex.

On the heels of that thought was a traitorous little voice in her head that pointed out humans had almost the exact same build as the asari and _they_ sure as hell found ways to have sex with turians.

But that wasn't the _point_. There was no reason Garrus should be attracted to her that way and she wasn't…

Well, that was why all the rationalization wasn't really working. Lust wasn't an unfamiliar emotion to her by any stretch of the imagination and while she was still having freakouts in her memory, she could safely say she had never felt anything quite like that before. She hadn't been worried about compatibility _at all_ for a few seconds in that car.

She'd never met someone's gaze for just a second and suddenly decided pinning him down and fucking him in the front seat of a moving vehicle was a _fabulous_ idea.

Shepard paused and took a deep breath, trying to yank her mind away from that image and ignore the slow wash of heat it sent through her.

Enough. Whatever she was feeling- intriguing as it might be -it didn't matter. She'd push it out of her mind because she wouldn't… _couldn't_ …push Garrus on the subject. She still didn't know whether he had killed Sidonis or not and she wouldn't ask, either. Whatever he'd chosen regarding the traitor, she was hoping it would help him start to come to terms with what had happened to him on Omega. If he was starting to put the pieces back together, she wasn't going to do anything that might disturb that. She wasn't willing to risk losing him, not for any kind of gratification, not for anything. And not just because he was an asset to the mission. _She_ couldn't do this without Garrus and even the idea of trying made her feel cold inside. It was almost scary to realize how much she needed him on this ship with her, but was that really surprising? They were on a Cerberus ship on a Cerberus funded mission, a group that had outright declared its intentions to put humanity above everyone else in the galaxy, including his own people, and she hadn't even had to _ask_ him to join her.

In fact, he'd acted like she was crazy to think he would do otherwise.

She couldn't lose him.

Shepard pivoted on one foot and strode toward the door. Enough, she thought again. Enough, enough, enough with weird awkward moments…they'd had a lot of those lately, hadn't they? Even before the Citadel. Well, no more. She wasn't going to let anything have a bad effect on the mission and she sure as _hell_ wasn't going to let anything get between her and her friend.

* * *

Any turian could tell you that there was a certain, utterly unique pleasure in finding the perfect weapon for a situation.

Naturally, his people had been the ones to design the perfect cannon for their situation. Thanix Manufacturing had released the cannon earlier in the year. He hadn't paid much attention to it until Shepard had asked him to look into upgrading the guns. Miranda might make noise about the price but it would be worth it. There were rumors they had based the cannon's design off of Sovereign after turian volunteers had salvaged debris from it off of the Citadel…because of _course_ they did.

There was a beautiful symmetry, he thought, in using a cannon based off Reaper design against creatures serving them. He was quite sure Shepard would agree.

Garrus stood at his console, staring down at it without really seeing the algorithms scrolling across it.

 _Shepard._ Thoughts of her had been distracting him a great deal lately, no matter how much he tried to dismiss them. He kept thinking about what she'd talked about in the cab on the way to meet Sidonis. He'd been trying very hard at the time not to listen to what she was saying, yet he could hear every word clear in his memory. More than that, he kept going back to the look in her eyes and the worry in her voice.

She had hunted down the people who had been connected with that slaving ring after she'd escaped her father. Only the ones directly connected to him, not enough to break it, but enough to weaken it severely. She'd told him Wrex had played a part in finally breaking that slaving ring apart completely. The krogan, even the worst of them, had a problem with people who hurt children.

Up until now, it had been enough for Garrus to know Shepard had done that. It had never occurred to him, not once, that she might have hurt innocent people in the process, though now that he thought about it that went a long way toward explaining why she'd turned herself in.

Everything she did now she planned. Even her anger tended to run cold and calculating. But she had years of military training and fighting experience between then and now. What had she been like back then? Had she been as wrapped up in rage as he had? Would she tell him if he asked?

The woman was a fascination to him and always had been. He'd once told her that he had never met anyone like her and that had been the absolute truth. Every time he thought he had a firm grasp on who she was, she did something that made him rethink everything. He'd been certain he would never know the full extent of the mind behind those gray eyes. Up until this point, he'd never even considered trying.

_I'll make you a deal, Archangel, you keep your mouth shut and in return, I won't let Shepard in on what your behavior would mean if she was a turian._

Garrus growled low in his throat. He hated… _hated_ …admitting it, but Lin had made a point that his mind kept coming back to again and again: if Shepard had been a turian, he would have done everything he could to win her over and done it _long_ before now. And he would have torn through anyone who tried to stop him.

But Shepard wasn't a turian. She would have been a terrible turian, as a matter of fact. Not that he had much room to talk, as he wasn't a very good one himself. A good turian wouldn't let himself get distracted by thoughts about his commanding officer, no matter how fast and loose said commanding officer played with rank and protocol.

The doors slid open and Garrus tensed up automatically. He forced himself to relax, half turning, knowing who it was already.

"I've decided this ship should spearhead the movement to make blowing up Collectors _the_ newest fad in the galaxy," Shepard announced as she sauntered up to the console.

He smiled, amusement pushing back awkwardness for the moment. "I think we're going to end up blowing them all up, so it'll be a short lived fad. Especially with the cannons I just found."

"Oh?"

Garrus moved to pick up the datapad he'd been using for research and brought up the information on the Thanix cannon before handing it to her. "Rumor has it they based the design off of the remains of Sovereign," he pointed out. "There's an asari based company claiming it's illegal because of it."

"They're just jealous because they didn't manage to steal that stuff first."

"Now, Shepard, it was salvaging, not stealing."

"If you say so. You want to use cannons based on Reaper designs against Reapers. Oh, Garrus, that's beautiful."

The sheer delight in her voice made him smile again. "I thought you'd think so."

"You think you can get them for us?"

"Working on it. It's a bit tricky making sure they don't know it's for a Cerberus ship."

She handed the datapad back to him. "Use whatever you need." She looked up at him and glanced away. The tension in the room started to rise again and she wandered over to a crate against the wall. "How are you?"

"I'm all right, Shepard. Little tense. It's hard to prepare for a mission like this, especially with everyone reminding us how hard it's going to be."

"That's not what I meant, Garrus."

He was silent for a moment, moving back to the console. "Coming to terms," he said finally. "That'll take time."

"Yeah."

"What happened, Shepard?" He found himself asking it before he really thought about it. He looked over to find her blinking at him, her head cocked questioningly. "I was actually listening when you were talking about Sidonis. Both to what you were and weren't saying."

"Oh." She ran a hand through her hair. "Well…"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I don't mind telling you about it." He caught the inflection, the implication she wouldn't have spoken to anyone else about it. It warmed him. "That's…something that took _me_ a long time to come to terms with." She was quiet for a moment, gathering herself. "Long story short, when I was going through my insane 'kill my father and everyone he ever looked at' phase, I ended up killing two innocent people."

Garrus just watched her, wondering if she was going to continue. She fidgeted a bit, not looking at him, but pushed on. "One was on purpose, just a guy I needed information from to get to one of the targets. Kyle Fromm, he was one of the financiers…and clients. Sick fuck. I got into his penthouse because at the time, I could pass myself off as much younger than I was." Her lips curved into a bitter smile. "Papa might not have taught me how to use that if he'd thought I'd end up using it against him." She shook herself a bit and straightened up.

That disturbing bit of information troubled him. He knew she had worked for her father in the Terminus Systems, including Omega, for several years after the destruction of her home. He'd heard things about Benjamin Creed here and there and there were a couple of times he'd allowed himself to wonder exactly what he'd done to her. Considering how much she hated the man, he wasn't entirely certain he wanted to know.

"The guy I went after to find out about Kyle was this bookie named Dex. I roughed him up a bit and then put a bullet in his head. He was slime but I was misinformed about…no, that's prettying it up too much. I just assumed that he had connections to the slaving ring the same way Kyle did and I didn't bother to look too much into it. I was wrong. He had nothing to do with any of it. Kyle was happy to inform me of that and it turned out he was right." Her expression hardened a bit. "He took a lot of pleasure telling me that. At least until I wrapped a wire around his throat, then he was too busy dying slowly to say much." There was a queer glitter in her eyes that reminded him sharply of when she'd killed Forvan. She'd had that same chilling look of savage pleasure.

It vanished a moment later, replaced with pain. "The second…ah, hell, Garrus, the second was just some kid on Omega. He couldn't have been older than fifteen. It was one of those moments the timing worked out exactly wrong. I went after my father. I took a shot at him right as the kid came around the corner. I think that's what happened. I can't really remember where the kid came from, now that I think about it. But I remember where he ended up. I missed and it caught him right in the chest." She took a deep breath. "And I left him there. I didn't even check to see make sure he was dead. It was a choice between going after Papa and doing what was right. I chose him. I always choose him…"

Choose or chose? Garrus wondered if she was even aware of the verbal slip. He was aware he probably should have been saying something, but was strangely reluctant to interrupt her.

"And those are just the two I'm aware of," she said. "Were there others? Maybe. Probably. I think about that a lot." She shook herself and looked up at him, making a flapping gesture with one hand. "Anyway, that…that's how I know how easy it is to lose yourself, Garrus."

"I get it." He turned back toward the console to give himself something to do since he had absolutely no idea what to say. He didn't believe for one second that Shepard was or ever had been as bad as her father but it was clear to him for the first time that she thought she was. How the hell did she get anything done if she was second guessing herself like that all the time? Or maybe it was because she always examined herself and her actions that made her what she was. Whatever it was, the idea she genuinely considered herself a monster…because that's what it was in the end, wasn't it…bothered him. A lot. "It's no wonder we like fighting Reapers so much is it?" he finally said. "No grey area with them."

Shepard barked out a surprised laugh, willing to let the subject shift away. "Very true. They may call it a suicide mission, but at least we know who the bad guys are, yes?"

"You'll get the job done, Shepard. You always do." If he could do nothing else, he could assure her of that, because he believed it absolutely. "I mean, the Collectors killed you once and all that did was piss you off. They aren't going to stop you this time."

"As long as you're with me," Shepard said quietly. Something about the tone of her voice had him swallowing hard and staring at the console, not sure he was ready for whatever look might be in those gray eyes. "I couldn't do this without you, you know."

He snorted, trying to lighten the moment. "Sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course." He tapped the edge of the console. "That's the first time you've said that out loud."

"Said what?"

"Suicide mission. Oh, it's gone unsaid by everyone but that's the first time you've called it that."

"The Illusive Man has been calling it that from the beginning. He's real big on morale," she said dryly. "He'd send every last one of us into certain death without thinking twice. And the funny thing is, I really do think he thinks he's being subtle about it."

Ah, there was his commander. "It's been weird being on a human ship with that kind of expectation. Your people don't prepare for high-risk operations the way turians do."

"From what I understand, you guys beat the shit out of each other."

"Pretty much. We have more operational discipline, but fewer personal restrictions."

"You weren't running varren fights in the engine room, were you?"

"I put that idea forward with command but they never let me set it up," Garrus quipped. Shepard's chuckle was genuine this time and made him smile in response. "We have training rooms for exercise, combat sims, even full contact sparring. Whatever lets people work off stress."

"The aforementioned beating the shit out of each other."

"Hey, now, it's supervised. Nobody's going to risk an injury that interferes with the mission. And it's a good way to settle grudges amicably." His brain told him to just stop right there. She looked amused, the weird mood was broken, everything was fine. Instead, caught up and wanting to illustrate his point, he picked the absolute worst story to do it. "I remember right before one mission, we were about to hit a batarian pirate squad. Very risky. This recon scout and I had been at each other's throats. Nerves, mostly. She suggested we settle it in the ring."

"And she kicked your ass."

He finally looked at her, eyes narrowed in mock affront with just a whiff of the real thing. "You should know better than that. She and I were the top ranked hand-to-hand specialists on the ship. I had reach but she had flexibility."

He could literally _see_ her struggle to bite back some kind of wiseass remark and this time she actually managed to succeed. "So you took her down gently?"

"The judge called it a draw after nine rounds. There were a lot of unhappy betters in the training room."

"Ah. And how did she take it?"

Oh, he hadn't considered telling her about that part. Had he? When he hesitated, her eyebrows winged up and he knew he didn't have a chance in hell of avoiding this one. She'd get it out of him eventually. He cleared his throat, looking down at the console yet again. "We, ah, ended up holding a tiebreaker. In her quarters. I had reach but she had flexibility. More than one way to work off stress, I guess."

He couldn't even be truly embarrassed because that didn't get just a chuckle this time. She laughed out loud. It was a low, rich, barroom laugh he'd only heard once or twice in all the time he'd known her, and he'd never been the cause of it. He'd also never known that a sound could roll right over your nerve endings. It was a very interesting sensation.

A thud from somewhere else in the ship, Garrus wasn't sure where, cut her laughter off. She shook her head and sighed, shrugging when he gave her a questioning look. "Grunt."

"What's he doing?"

"Ramming himself headfirst against the wall, probably. He's restless, to say the least. Mordin's doing some research but a trip to Tuchanka might be in order, just to let you know."

"Maybe he just needs to blow off steam; we can take him to Omega and buy him some dances instead."

She grinned and pushed herself up, moving for the door. "I better go make sure he's not putting a hole in my hull, but you need to blow off steam, you know where to find me, Garrus."

His brain froze for a second, paralyzed by shock. Pure spirits-did-she-just-say-what-I-think-she-said shock. "Oh, sparring." Of course it was sparring, you idiot, he bereted himself.

But he'd hesitated a bit too long and Shepard had paused to look back at him, cocking an eyebrow. Her smile was pure evil, her voice dropping into a purr. "Unless you wanted to go straight to the tiebreaker."

Garrus could honestly say he'd never been this damn flustered in his life. "I…Shepard…"

"Oh, Garrus, if you could see the look on your face right now." Shepard shook her head, her smile softening into the one she wore when she was mocking herself. "I'm teasing, handsome."

"Shepard…"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist." She was already turning back toward the door, a self-depreciating smile on her lips.

Garrus didn't pretend to know everything about women, but he knew this woman well enough to know what that smile meant. She wasn't just teasing and they both knew it. "Shepard." His tone was firm enough to have her looking back. "If it was possible, then definitely."

Now it was her turn to look startled. And…was she blushing? He'd always found that a fascinating tell for human emotions. The asari did it too, but not so obviously. Garrus peered through the dim red light of the Main Battery, his sensor picking up in the quickening of her pulse and the catch in her breath. She _was_.

Shepard looked at him, brushing her hair away from her face. The gesture brought his attention to the graceful curve of her neck and shoulder. How could humans stand to walk around with their most vulnerable spot exposed like that? "Well," she finally said, "a friend on Illium mentioned it was really all about positioning. And I'm very flexible."

Neither one of them were quite ready to talk out loud about what had happened between them in the car but they stared across the Main Battery at each other for a long moment, feeling a ghost of that heat between them and both of them acknowledging it. When Grunt started thudding around in the cargo bay again, Shepard had to shake herself a bit before she moved out the door without another word.  And with a telltale trace of pink still high on her cheekbones.

Garrus stared after her for a long moment, feeling oddly satisfied instead of awkward.

He'd made Arian Shepard blush.


End file.
